Chapter 118 Chapter 117
Logan POV
I tell myself I’m fine.
That this is just an event.
That this is charity.
That this is optics and paddles and donors with too much money and too little sense.
That I am the captain.
That I am supposed to smile, shake hands, play the role.
I even manage it for the first twenty minutes.
I stand near the front with Cole and a couple boosters, nodding at the right moments, letting Daniel Meyers hover like a proud stage mom.
My body is here.
My mind is not.
Because I know she’s on the list.
Because I know her name is going to be called.
And because I don’t know what I’m going to do when it happens.
Then the emcee laughs into the microphone.
“And now… one of our most anticipated participants tonight.”
My spine goes rigid.
Cole glances at me.
“Oh boy,” he mutters.
The room shifts.
Applause builds before she even appears, like people already know.
The emcee smiles.
“She is a campus leader, the president of one of our most respected sororities… and the woman who has helped organize this entire event.”
My chest tightens.
Then—
“Please welcome… Harper Lane!”
The spotlight hits her.
And everything in me goes still.
Harper steps onto the stage like she was born under bright lights.
Black dress.
Soft, elegant, lethal.
Not flashy. Not desperate.
Just… undeniable.
She looks out at the crowd with that calm expression she wears like armor.
But I see it.
The tension in her shoulders.
The careful steadiness of her smile.
The way she’s holding herself together.
My throat goes dry.
Cole shifts beside me.
“Jesus,” he whispers. “Shaw…”
I don’t answer.
Because my brain is doing something it has never done before:
It is not thinking.
It is wanting.
The emcee starts the bidding.
“Five hundred dollars!”
A paddle lifts immediately.
“Seven hundred!”
Another.
Harper stays composed, hands folded, eyes forward.
My jaw tightens.
I hate this.
I hate the way people are looking at her.
Like she’s a prize.
Like she’s entertainment.
Like she’s something they get to purchase for a night.
The bids climb.
Nine hundred.
One thousand.
The crowd murmurs, pleased with itself.
My chest burns.
And then I hear it—
Some guy behind me laughs.
“She cleans up nice.”
Another voice: “Yeah, I’d take her out.”
Something cold slides down my spine.
Harper’s gaze flickers briefly over the crowd.
She looks… distant.
Like she’s somewhere else.
Like she’s bracing.
My hands curl into fists.
This is wrong.
This is all wrong.
I should let it happen.
I should sit on my hands and be the good captain and let the charity do what it’s supposed to do.
But then I see her again.
I hear her voice from the hallway last night.
I want to be a choice.
And I realize—
If I stay silent, if I sit here and watch someone else raise a paddle…
Then I am proving her right.
That I only want her in the dark.
That I only want her when it’s easy.
That I don’t choose her at all.
The bids keep going.
“Twelve hundred!”
“Fifteen!”
My pulse is roaring.
My father’s voice flickers in my head.
Everything is optics. Everything is a test.
Fine.
Then this is my test.
Harper shifts slightly on stage.
A small breath.
A blink too slow.
She looks too exposed.
Too alone.
Something in me snaps.
I don’t think.
I stand.
The chair scrapes loudly against the floor.
Heads turn.
Cole’s eyes widen.
“Logan,” he hisses.
I don’t care.
My paddle is already in my hand.
My voice cuts through the room, sharp and absolute.
“Two thousand.”
Silence hits like a wave.
The emcee blinks, then laughs nervously.
“Well! Captain Logan Shaw is not playing around tonight!”
Harper’s eyes find mine.
Shock flashes across her face.
My chest tightens.
Good.
See me.
Know this.
Another paddle lifts quickly.
“Twenty-five hundred!”
My jaw clenches.
I don’t hesitate.
“Three thousand.”
Gasps ripple.
Whispers bloom.
Cole mutters, “Holy shit.”
Daniel Meyers is probably having an orgasm somewhere.
I don’t care.
All I can see is Harper.
The way her hands have gone still.
The way her breath catches.
Another bidder, emboldened.
“Thirty-five hundred!”
My blood turns hot.
No.
No one else.
Not tonight.
Not tomorrow.
Not ever.
I hear Harper’s voice again.
Try being confused for years.
I am not confused.
Not anymore.
I raise the paddle higher.
“Five thousand.”
The room goes dead silent.
Even the emcee looks stunned.
Harper’s lips part slightly.
Her eyes are wide.
And for the first time, she doesn’t look composed.
She looks shaken.
Like she can’t decide if she wants to run or fall.
The emcee clears his throat.
“Five thousand dollars… do I hear fifty-five?”
No one moves.
Because who competes with that?
The emcee smiles, almost disbelieving.
“Going once…”
My heart is pounding so hard it hurts.
Harper doesn’t look away.
“Going twice…”
I can barely breathe.
“Sold! To Captain Logan Shaw!”
The room erupts.
Applause.
Cheers.
People laughing like this is romantic.
Like this is a show.
They don’t understand.
This isn’t a show.
This is a confession.
This is me standing up in the daylight.
Harper is still frozen under the spotlight.
Her gaze locked on mine.
And all I can think is—
I don’t care what this costs.
I don’t care who’s watching.
I don’t care what tomorrow brings.
I had to have her.
Not as a prize.
Not as a distraction.
As a choice.
And now I have to prove I know what that means.