The next morning, Logan walked into class, acting as if nothing had happened. His usual calm and composed demeanor didn't change, but Amara noticed the subtle shifts.
She had always been good at reading people—part of growing up as Salvador's daughter meant knowing how to analyze potential threats, allies, and competitors. And Logan was definitely a mystery.
She had her suspicions before, but yesterday had only fueled them. The way Elsa carried herself, the way Logan seemed completely at ease with her—it wasn't just some casual relationship. There was something deeper there.
So, Amara decided she would do what she did best: observe and gather information.
---
Logan had expected school to be tedious, but in reality, it wasn't too bad. The classes were easy, and he remained distant yet polite to his classmates.
He didn't make an effort to form friendships, but that didn't stop people from gravitating toward him.
Some of the girls were clearly interested in him, whispering about how mysterious and dangerous he seemed.
The guys, especially those who had connections in the underworld, were either wary of him or tried to get on his good side.
Matthew was still bitter about their past encounter and kept his distance.
And then there was Amara—who was watching him like a hawk.
Logan wasn't dumb. He knew what she was doing. She was trying to figure him out.
He smirked to himself. Let her try.
---
That afternoon, as classes ended, Logan walked toward the academy gates, expecting to see Elsa waiting for him in the Corvette like before.
But instead, she was leaning against a sleek black rental motorcycle—one he had never seen before.
The sight caught everyone's attention. Elsa, in her casual yet effortlessly cool attire, adjusting her gloves as she smirked at Logan.
"What, no car today?" Logan asked, approaching her.
Elsa smirked. "Thought I'd switch things up. Get on."
Logan chuckled, grabbing the helmet she tossed him before hopping onto the bike. "You really like making an entrance, don't you?"
Elsa revved the engine. "Always."
And with that, they sped off, leaving behind a silent but stunned crowd of students and professors.
---
Amara, who had been watching from a distance, felt something shift inside her.
Logan wasn't just some quiet guy who happened to be good at his job. He was careful, calculated. And now she was sure—he was hiding something big.
If she wanted answers, she would have to take matters into her own hands.
Amara pulled out her phone, dialing a number.
"I need a background check on someone. His name is Logan Holt."
Amara wasn't the type to sit back and let things unfold on their own. If Logan was hiding something—and she was sure he was—then she'd find out.
The next day, she met with one of her father's best informants, Marco, a tech expert known for digging up dirt on people. They met in a secluded lounge downtown, away from the academy.
"I need everything you can find on Logan Holt," she told Marco, sliding a small envelope across the table—containing a stack of cash.
Marco raised an eyebrow. "Interesting. A guy like that must've caught your attention for a reason."
Amara leaned forward, her voice firm. "Just do your job."
Marco chuckled. "Alright, I'll see what I can dig up. Give me a few days."
She nodded, but deep down, she had a strange feeling that whatever Marco found wouldn't be easy to process.
---
After taking down the Valdez cartel, Logan knew that they were being watched. Salvador's organization trusted him, but that trust only went so far. He had to keep up appearances while preparing for his next move.
They spent the next few nights reinforcing their hidden warehouse—checking the weapons stash, securing their finances, and setting up escape routes if things went sideways.
Elsa leaned against a metal crate, watching Logan work. "You ever get tired of all this planning?"
Logan glanced at her. "No. You don't survive long in this business by being reckless."
She smirked. "Still, we could use some backup. Just the two of us isn't gonna cut it forever."
Logan sighed. "I know. We'll find the right people when the time comes."
---
A few days later, Marco called Amara to meet again.
"I got something," he said, sliding a tablet across the table.
Amara's eyes narrowed as she scanned the information. There wasn't much.
Logan's past records were mostly clean—too clean.
His father, George Holt, had ties to the underworld, but Logan himself didn't have an extensive criminal record.
She looked up at Marco. "This doesn't tell me what he's planning."
Marco shrugged. "Maybe not. But people don't just join cartels for no reason. If I had to guess? He's got an agenda."
Amara clenched her jaw. She had to know more.
---
The next day at the academy, Amara approached Logan after class.
"Walk with me."
Logan raised an eyebrow but followed her down the hall.
She didn't waste time. "Who are you really, Logan?"
He smirked. "I think you already know the answer."
Amara stared at him, trying to read his expression. "You're up to something, aren't you?"
Logan sighed. "And what if I am?"
Amara crossed her arms. "Then I'd want to know if it's going to be a problem for me… or my father."
Logan looked at her for a moment before smirking slightly. "You'll find out soon enough."
And with that, he walked away, leaving Amara with even more questions.
Amara couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that Logan was more than just a skilled triggerman. After her meeting with Marco, she spent the next few days quietly observing him. His movements were too precise, too calculated.
She also noticed how he never truly let his guard down—not even at the academy. Whether in class, the cafeteria, or the training grounds, Logan was always aware of his surroundings, scanning every room like a soldier expecting an ambush.
It wasn't normal behavior for a mercenary just looking to make a living.
And Elsa? She wasn't just his "partner." Amara could tell by the way she watched over Logan—like a soldier guarding a commander.
Amara needed more proof. If Logan was hiding something, she'd find out.
---
One evening, Logan parked his Stingray Corvette outside a quiet, dimly lit café on the outskirts of the city.
His father, George Holt, was already there, sitting in the farthest booth. He looked up as Logan slid into the seat across from him.
"You've made quite a name for yourself," George said, stirring his coffee. "The underworld's been talking about you."
Logan smirked. "Let them talk."
George leaned in, his expression turning serious. "Salvador is starting to question your loyalty."
Logan leaned back, unimpressed. "Let him. I did everything I said I would. The Valdez cartel is gone, and now he's the most powerful boss in the region."
George nodded. "True, but power breeds paranoia. He's watching you."
Logan sighed. "I expected as much."
George slid a small USB drive across the table. "Inside this is information about Salvador's shadiest deals—the ones even his top men don't know about. If you ever need leverage, this is it."
Logan pocketed the USB. "And what about you? Still planning our revenge?"
George's eyes darkened. "I've waited years for the right moment. That moment is coming soon."
Logan nodded. "Then we move carefully."
---
Later that night, Logan and Elsa were at their hidden warehouse, checking their gear.
Elsa, who had been quiet since their last job, suddenly spoke up.
"Amara's watching you."
Logan paused, setting down his pistol. "I know."
Elsa crossed her arms. "She's smart. And she's got resources. It's only a matter of time before she figures out your true intentions."
Logan sighed. "She can suspect all she wants. As long as she has no proof, she's harmless."
Elsa frowned. "Harmless? She's the daughter of a cartel boss. If she realizes you're planning to betray Salvador, she won't hesitate to take action."
Logan met her gaze. "Then we make sure she doesn't find out—until it's too late."
Elsa hesitated, then nodded. "Just be careful, Logan."
He smirked. "Always."
But deep down, he knew that time was running out.