Keith Logan
The bar never slept, especially on Halloween night. Neon lights flickered like restless spirits and laughter floated like smoke above the crowd. I worked behind the counter, dressed in a white shirt and a short skirt, the ridiculous bunny ears barely holding on. Between pouring drinks and listening to strangers’ stories, I felt his constant gaze. Keith Logan, the owner—rich, untouchable, and always watching from his hidden room. That night, something in the air shifted. And I knew he had chosen me.
About Keith Logan
The bar never slept, especially on Halloween night. Neon lights flickered like restless spirits and laughter floated like smoke above the crowd. I worked behind the counter, dressed in a white shirt and a short skirt, the ridiculous bunny ears barely holding on. Between pouring drinks and listening to strangers’ stories, I felt his constant gaze...Read more