Chapter 104 *

Chapter 104 Chapter 104
Angelina’s POV
I turned to look.
Two figures were walking toward the pool area. One man in an expensive-looking suit. One woman in designer clothes. They looked to be in their late forties or early fifties.
Behind them, two people who were clearly assistants or staff members.
Logan's face had gone pale. "My parents. My fucking parents are here."
Mia's eyes went wide. "Wait, what? Why are they here?"
"I don't know! They weren't supposed to come to the lake house!"
Silas sat up straight. "Should we... do something? Leave?"
"Too late," I said quietly. "They're already here."
The man and woman were getting closer. I could see their faces more clearly now.
The man had Logan's facial structure. But his expression was much harder. The woman looked elegant. Well-maintained. She had a pleasant face but there was tiredness in her eyes.
Logan stood up quickly. Almost knocked over his beer. "Fuck. Okay. Okay, just... everyone act normal."
"We are acting normal," Mia said.
"No, I mean... shit." Logan ran his hand through his wet hair. "My dad's gonna be pissed."
The man—Mr. Pierce, I assumed—stopped about ten feet from our group. His eyes swept over all of us.
Dismissive. That was the look. Like we were insects he'd found in his house.
"Logan." His voice was cold. Sharp. "Get out of the pool. Now."
Logan wasn't in the pool anymore but he straightened up anyway. "Dad, I—"
"NOW."
Mrs. Pierce put her hand on her husband's arm. "Honey, maybe we should go inside and—"
Mr. Pierce ignored her. Took several steps forward until he was right in front of Logan.
"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" His voice got louder. "I'm in the middle of closing a billion-dollar deal, working eighteen-hour days, and you're here playing pool boy with your little friends?"
Logan's face went red. "Dad, it's just a weekend—"
"A weekend? You think you've earned a weekend?" Mr. Pierce's eyes were blazing now. "Let me tell you what I did this weekend. I flew to New York, met with three different board members, negotiated terms on a major acquisition, and flew back. What did you do?"
Logan didn't answer.
"That's what I thought." Mr. Pierce turned his gaze to the rest of us.
His eyes landed on Silas first. Then Mia. Then me.
"Let me guess. None of you have jobs? None of you have a future? Just a bunch of trust fund babies and freeloaders living off daddy's money?"
He paused. Looked at Silas. "Or in your case, living off other people's daddy's money?"
Silas's face went dark red. His hands clenched.
I put my hand on his arm. Squeezed slightly. A silent message: Don't react.
Silas took a deep breath. Stayed quiet.
Mr. Pierce wasn't done. He gestured at the pool. The chairs. The drinks.
"This. This is exactly what I'm talking about. You surround yourself with people who have zero ambition. No drive. No goals. Just vibes and good times, right?"
He laughed. It wasn't a happy sound. "Real fucking productive."
Mrs. Pierce tried again. "David, please. Can we discuss this inside—"
"No." Mr. Pierce cut her off. "He needs to hear this."
He turned back to Logan. "You know what your transcript looks like? Like a goddamn joke. Two Cs and a D. Do you know how embarrassing that is?"
Logan's jaw clenched. "Dad—"
"I have board members asking me if my son is special needs. Meanwhile your sister's at Yale crushing it, and you're here shotgunning beers with your dropout friends."
"They're not dropouts," Logan said quietly.
"Oh really? What are their career plans then?" Mr. Pierce turned to look at us again. "Anyone want to share? What are you going to do with your lives?"
Nobody answered.
Mr. Pierce's eyes landed on me. Stayed there for a moment longer than the others.
He looked me up and down. The oversized t-shirt. The bare legs. My hair still slightly damp.
"And who's this? Another one of your charity cases?"
His tone was condescending. But I saw something else in his eyes. A brief hesitation. Like he'd noticed something about me that didn't quite fit his assumptions.
I stared back at him. Mr. Pierce's expression hardened. He turned back to Logan.
"We need to talk. Inside. Now."
"Dad, can this wait until—"
"No. It can't wait." Mr. Pierce crossed his arms. "Tomorrow there's an important business meeting. Critical meeting. With one of the largest commercial alliances on the West Coast."
He paused. "Blackwater Cartel. We're discussing a major partnership. Real estate development, investment ventures, the whole package."
My eyes moved slightly. This was the Meridian meeting. Logan's father was the CEO of Meridian.
Mr. Pierce continued. "You're coming to that meeting. You're going to sit there, shut up, and watch how real business is conducted. Consider it the first step in learning how to run the family company."
Logan's face had gone pale. "Tomorrow? Dad, I have—"
"You have nothing. Clear your schedule."
"But—"
"This isn't a discussion, Logan. You're coming. End of story."
Mr. Pierce was still staring at Logan. Waiting for him to follow orders like a good little soldier.
Logan's hands were clenched into fists. His whole body was tense.
Then he exploded.
"You know what? FUCK the meeting!"
Everyone froze.
Mr. Pierce's eyes went wide. "What did you just say to me?"
"You heard me!" Logan's voice was loud now. Really loud. "I'm not going. I don't CARE about your billion-dollar deal."
This was about to get interesting.
Mr. Pierce took a step forward. His face was turning red. "You little—"
"I don't WANT your life!" Logan cut him off. He was shaking now but not from fear. From rage. "You want to know why my grades suck? Because I don't want to be you!"
He pointed directly at his father's face.
"Sitting in boardrooms all day, kissing ass, making money you don't even have time to spend! When's the last time you actually LIVED? When's the last time you did something that wasn't about the company?"
Mrs. Pierce grabbed her husband's arm. "Logan, that's enough—"
"No!" Logan turned to face her. "It's NOT enough! I'm sick of this!"
He looked back at Mr. Pierce. "Yeah, Sarah's at Yale. Good for her! She WANTS that life! But I'm not Sarah! I'm not your fucking clone!"
"Watch your mouth," Mr. Pierce said. His voice was dangerously quiet.
"Why? So I don't embarrass you?" Logan laughed. It sounded bitter. "Maybe if you spent five minutes actually TALKING to me instead of comparing me to her, you'd know that I'm not interested in any of this!"
Mr. Pierce's jaw was clenched so tight I could see the muscles working.
Logan turned and pointed at Mia and Silas.
"These people? They're the only ones who actually give a shit about ME! Not about my last name. Not about my trust fund. They like me for ME."
He looked back at his father. "Can you say the same about your 'friends' at the country club?"
The silence was heavy.
Mr. Pierce looked like he'd been slapped. His whole face had gone red. "That's ENOUGH!" His voice came out as a roar.
But Logan wasn't backing down. His voice got slightly quieter.
"I'm fifteen years old. FIFTEEN. I should be worrying about homework and girls, not your goddamn corporate succession plan."