Logan's POV
I spent my childhood surrounded by wealth that most people could only dream of. The marble floors beneath my feet, the crystal chandeliers casting rainbow patterns on silk wallpaper, the servants who appeared at the snap of a finger - all of it painted a picture of privilege that made others believe I had been blessed.
Perhaps they were correct in their assumptions. I possessed everything that society deemed valuable.
Yet beneath the golden facade, something fundamental was missing. An emptiness that no amount of luxury could fill.
That morning, I made my way through the familiar corridors of our estate, my fingers trailing along the polished mahogany banister. The ancestral portraits watched me with painted eyes, but it was the photographs of Coleman that made me pause.
