Finally, my instincts kicked in. I strode over, scooped up Aurora so she couldn’t bolt again, and pulled Anna close with one arm. With the other, I wrapped my hand around Evelyn’s shoulders, pullingher into our makeshift family unit. I faced the crowd squarely.
“My office will release an official statement later today,” I announced, my voice firm. “Right now, I am asking for privacy for myself and for my family.”
My family…
This was spiraling out of control.
“Anna, hold your mother’s hand,” I instructed the girl.
“What?” she asked, utterly bewildered.
I shot her a sharp look, making it clear I was referring to Evelyn.
Reluctantly, Anna took the woman’s hand but still tried to protest. “But she’s not—”
“We’re going back to our room. Now,” I declared, cutting her off.
I led the way to the elevator, Aurora in my arms, my other arm still firmly guiding Evelyn, who in turn was pulling a confused Anna along. The reporters tried to swarm us again, but hotel securityfinallystepped in, blocking them from entering the elevator bank.
We rode up all twenty-four floors in heavy silence. The moment the hotel room door clicked shut behind us, Evelyn whirled around, her eyes flashing with anger.
“What the hell was that?” she demanded.
I let out a long sigh, running a hand through my hair as I tried to figure out where to even begin.
Perhaps the best place to start was with the simple, desperate truth.
“I need you to help me,” I said.
She just blinked, looking more confused than ever.
Chapter Four
EVELYN
When my best friend Camila mentioned her brother-in-law, Logan Turner, needed a Spanish translator for a medical conference, it seemed like a perfect opportunity for several reasons.
First, and most importantly, I desperately needed the money. I wasn't even a trained translator; I was a Spanish teacher—or I had been, until the private school I worked for downsized a few months ago. Now I was clerking at a bookstore, and any weekend gig was a financial lifeline. My parents are from Puerto Rico, so Spanish was my first language—at least that part I had down.
The second reason was the networking. A room full of international doctors could lead to other jobs, maybe even a position as a bilingual secretary for one of them. At this point, I wasn't picky. I'd even consider relocating.
Third, I'm a complete sucker for medical dramas. Getting a behind-the-scenes peek at a real conference sounded genuinely fun.
And fourth… well, Dr. Logan Turner was undeniably gorgeous. He had that superhero build—tall and solid—with a classic movie-star face: a strong jaw, striking blue eyes, and dark brown hair. But more than just handsome, he came across as honest and stable. My opinion wasn't just based on Camila's stories; the Turners were famous, and I'll admit to a weakness for celebrity gossip.
Of the three brothers, Logan was the most private, the one who barely gave the media anything to work with. To me, that painted a picture of a serious, scandal-free man.
Which is why the scene I'd just been thrust into felt like a category-five scandal.
"You told them I'm their mother," I said, pointing at the twins. "Why would you say that? Why tell such a huge lie?"
"Please, just calm down. I'll explain everything. Like I said, I need your help."
"Help withwhat?"
He opened his mouth to answer but stopped, his eyes flicking to the girls who were watching us with undisguised curiosity. He walked to the door, checkedthe lock, and then removed the key card, slipping it into his pocket. Next, he went to the desk, picked up some papers, and then came back to take my hand, pulling me toward the bathroom.
"Hey, what are you doing?" I asked, startled.
