She is a courtesan

Penthouse

The soft hum of the elevator accompanied them back up. Inside the grand suite, Harper paused beside the tall glass windows, the skyline glittering behind her. She turned slowly to Quincy, her brow furrowed in thought.

"There's so much I don't know about you."

Quincy chuckled, loosening the collar of his shirt. "It's all a gradual process. Now you know more today."

"Your father is an interesting man."

"He definitely is!" He moved to his closet and pulled out a simple dress. "Now change your robe and wear a dress. We have somewhere to be."

"Where?"

"We are meeting Logan… to ask for your sister."

Harper's heart jolted. "Really?"

"Yes, right now!" he confirmed, and she rushed inside to change, fumbling with the robe as her mind raced.

Logan's Office

A dark, sleek lounge with sharp lines and the strong scent of expensive whiskey. Logan leaned back on a leather couch, legs crossed leisurely as he held a glass of amber liquor. His gaze locked onto them as they entered, amused.

"I didn't know y'all would ever come for me to ask for a favor."

"Stop feeling yourself too much, Logan," Quincy said, folding his arms.

"Well, I'm not! What do you want, Quincy?"

Harper stepped forward. Her voice cut through the tension.

"Sincere."

Logan froze mid-motion, his glass hovering before his lips.

"Who did you say just now?"

"Sincere. Ross said that he sent her to you. Let me know where she is."

Logan's sharp eyes flickered to Harper. "How did you know her, Harper?"

"She is my sister."

His brows lifted. "What? Your sister? How?"

"Ross bought her from my father in Outta City. She was sold here when she was 17 years old. I was 10 then… so I don't know what happened. But Ross told me that he sent her to you. Just tell me where you sold her to."

Logan stared, then suddenly burst into laughter, a deep, unsettling sound echoing through the room.

"Isn't life so interesting, dear Blue?"

"Logan, stop being messy! Tell us where Sincere is!" Quincy's voice thundered, fists clenched.

"And why should I? I'm not obligated to tell you anything."

"What do you want?"

"You know what I want, Quincy."

"I'm not giving you any opportunity to trade organs in my territory."

"I gave up on that already, okay? You know I lost some millions because of your courtesan. I haven't recovered yet. I need my funds back. You will fund my business, Quincy."

"No!" Harper barked out, her tone iron-clad.

"I will fund it back," Quincy countered, grabbing her hand to reassure her. "Don't worry, Harper. Your sister is more important."

Logan leaned forward, intrigued. "What do you say, Quincy?"

"Paige!"

"Yes, boss," the assistant replied from the corner.

"Fund Logan's business back up immediately."

"On it, sir!" Paige disappeared quickly down the hallway.

Logan leaned back, satisfied. "Now tell us where you sent her to."

"Your sister…" he began, as Harper's chest tightened. "She is so quick-witted. Beautiful—just like you. Very smart and outshines others. She was a very big competition to her mates, and she was also very good while serving me."

Harper's eyes welled up with tears. Her body swayed slightly. "Logan, tell us where she is!"

"She is in my mansion."

"Doing what? Did you make her a maid or something?"

"No! She is no maid at all. She is a courtesan. How could she be a maid?"

"A courtesan? My sister is a courtesan?"

"Definitely. Don't you find yourself connected to any of the courtesan?" he teased, his voice venomously amused.

Harper's entire being crashed in that moment. Her legs buckled slightly. She grabbed the hem of her dress, breath shallow, eyes wide and filled with disbelief. Her pulse throbbed violently in her temples.

A single tear rolled down her cheek.

"She is not… Angel, is she?" she asked in a small, breaking voice.

Logan's lips curled into a slow, cruel smile.

"What do you think?" he said, rising to his feet. "You two were pretty tough." He tossed the rest of the whiskey into his throat, set the glass down, and strolled out of the lounge.

"Logan!" Quincy called after him, voice rising—but Harper's hand tightened around his wrist.

Her knees gave in slightly. She slumped into the chair, trembling.

"Quincy…"

"Oh my goodness—what's wrong with you?" He rushed to her side, crouching down.

"My head… hurts! It hurts! I'm feeling dizzy… please take me back home…"

Without hesitation, Quincy scooped her into his arms bridal-style, holding her protectively against his chest. Her arms clung weakly around his neck, tears soaking into his shirt. He carried her out of Logan's office without a word, his jaw clenched, fury radiating off him as they disappeared into the shadows of the hallway.