A/N: this is a revised chapter, posted on october 29th 2024:

The Magna

[New York, Tuesday 15th of June 2021]

Logan took a moment to absorb the scene—the team, the energy, the success. The morning light streamed through the conference room windows, illuminating the faces of his colleagues, all buzzing with excitement. But his gaze settled on Rory, seated across the table, her smile bright and her eyes holding a touch of exhaustion that only he could see.

Grinning, Logan threw his arms up, his voice carrying a triumphant edge. "And that, everyone, is how we do things at The Magna!"

The room erupted in applause, a release of the tension that had gripped them for weeks. Logan closed his eyes, letting the sound sink in. When he looked again, his focus returned to Rory, whose laughter danced over the noise, grounding him amidst the chaos.

She met his gaze with a warm, amused smile. "I could get used to this," she said, her voice soft yet filled with pride.

Logan smirked, closing the space between them. "And what exactly would that be, Mrs. Huntzberger?"

Rory tilted her head, eyes twinkling. "Oh, you know—the part where you turn into David Beckham, celebrating a World Cup win in our conference room."

He raised an eyebrow. "Sports references? You and Victoria Beckham have been spending too much time together."

Rory laughed, shaking her head. "Or maybe it's just you," she said, her voice lowering. "You and that look on your face when we reach a goal we set together."

Logan's gaze softened. He stepped closer, placing his hands on the armrests of her chair, leaning in until their foreheads nearly touched. "In omnia magnam historiarum," she whispered, just before their lips met in a brief, intimate kiss.

It was a kiss of mutual respect, admiration, and a love that extended beyond the walls of The Magna. A kiss shared between one of America's most talked-about couples, bridging their worlds of business and personal devotion.

The room around them paused for a beat, their colleagues watching with affectionate smiles. Everyone knew the unique synergy Logan and Rory brought to this place—it wasn't just a workplace; it was an extension of their partnership.

As they broke apart, their eyes drifted downward, both settling on the gentle curve of her six-months-pregnant belly. A quiet reminder of the future they were building, as much a part of their legacy as this company.

With one final look of shared pride, Logan straightened, turning back to the team. "This is just the beginning," he said, his voice filled with conviction.

[The Magna, New York City, Tuesday the 18th of June 2021]

The applause in the conference room began to quiet, energy simmering down into a warm, buzzing anticipation. Logan stood, letting go of Rory's gaze with a slight, reassuring squeeze of her hand. He cleared his throat, his stance shifting from the celebratory partner to the commanding CEO everyone respected.

"We've just received confirmation," he announced, his voice steady and confident. "The European Commissioner of Competition has officially approved the merger between The Magna and The European Correspondent."

A ripple of excitement moved through the room, and a collective murmur of astonishment rose, mingling with suppressed cheers. Everyone understood the magnitude of this achievement. Expanding into Europe was more than a milestone—it was a statement of power, vision, and reach.

Rory reached for her phone, typing a quick message to her secretary: Champagne for seven in the conference room ASAP. She held it up for Logan to see, a small smile playing at her lips. He returned the smile with a nod, adding, "And as our Editor in Chief has just arranged, we'll celebrate with a glass of champagne before diving back in."

Charlotte entered moments later, balancing a tray of glasses and a chilled bottle. Logan exhaled, sinking into the chair beside Rory, his relief evident in his relaxed posture.

Stephanie, standing at the far end of the table, exchanged a quick, meaningful glance with Logan. Her eyes flicked briefly to Rory, who was caught up in the celebratory atmosphere, smiling at the team around her. Stephanie's look held a quiet worry, a thought unspoken but known between them. Rory, six months pregnant with twins, was pushing herself harder than anyone should.

Stephanie mouthed, I'll call Honor and Lorelai. Logan responded with a barely perceptible nod, reassured by her presence. Making Stephanie Head of Marketing had been one of the best choices they'd made. She was brilliant, dedicated, and perhaps most importantly, she cared deeply about Rory.

As champagne glasses were passed around, Odette, Stephanie, Bridget, Daniel, Connor, and Lawrence each raised their glasses, pride gleaming in their eyes.

"To new heights," Logan toasted, his gaze sweeping over the team and resting briefly on Rory. The group echoed his words, their glasses clinking in a celebration that felt as much about the future as it did about the present. In that moment, they were more than colleagues—they were a family bound by ambition, loyalty, and shared dreams.

As the last of the champagne glasses emptied and the celebratory hum softened, Logan made a decision. He turned to Rory, his voice gentle but firm. "Alright, Ace. Let me get the mother of the next Huntzberger generation home for a nap."

Rory glanced up at him, giving a small, tired smile. She didn't have the energy to protest. This deal had taken its toll—mentally, physically—and with Leia's fourth birthday party coming up and the twins growing inside her, she knew she needed the rest.

"Alright," she murmured, reaching for his hand as he helped her up from the chair. "Could you have Charlotte grab my things while I stop by the restroom? Your sons are using my bladder as a trampoline, Mr. Huntzberger," she teased, winking up at him.

Logan chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Consider it done," he promised, watching her head toward the restroom before turning on his heel.

Switching into CEO mode, Logan addressed the suited man waiting discreetly in the hall. "Home in five. Williams, too," he instructed, his tone brisk but friendly. Then he strode down the corridor toward their offices, efficiency in every step.

"Charlotte," he called as he entered his own office, quickly packing his briefcase. "I need you to get Rory's things. We're working from home for the rest of the day."

"Of course, Mr. Huntzberger," Charlotte replied without missing a beat. She moved with practiced ease; part of her role as Rory's secretary since the beginning had been making sure Rory could balance work and motherhood seamlessly.

A few minutes later, Charlotte handed Logan Rory's bags—a soft pink Birkin and a navy Louis Vuitton gifted by Honor when they found out Rory was expecting twins. "Her personal bag and essentials," Charlotte said, her tone professional but warm.

Logan gave her an appreciative smile. "Remind me to do something special for your Christmas bonus this year," he added with a hint of gratitude. "Twins definitely bring extra work."

Charlotte smiled back, her loyalty to Rory and Logan clear. "We'll keep her in top shape, Mr. Huntzberger. We need her back leading us soon."

Logan nodded, recognizing the dedication she had for Rory. All their staff were loyal, but Charlotte understood Rory on a personal level. With Rory's essentials gathered, Logan headed out, the team falling seamlessly into place behind them.

Walking down the corridor, he pulled out his phone and quickly typed an email to his American Express concierge: "Need a designer bag by week's end. Gift for Rory's secretary. Check with Bridget in HR for details. Logan Huntzberger, CEO, The Magna." He cc'ed Bridget and pressed send just as Rory reappeared.

Pocketing his phone, he turned his attention back to her, catching her tired smile. Handing the bags to Williams, Logan placed his hand gently on the small of Rory's back, guiding her toward the elevator. Davis had the Porsche Cayenne ready and waiting outside The Magna's New York headquarters.

As they settled into the SUV and merged into the city traffic, Logan glanced at Rory, who leaned back, her eyes already drifting closed, her hand resting protectively over her belly. The day's weight melted as they drove toward home, the city's noise fading into a gentle hum around them. For Logan, that quiet moment, his hand over hers, was all he needed to know they were exactly where they should be.

[The Huntzberger NYC house, Tuesday the 18th of June 2021]

Logan carefully lay in bed, glancing at his phone as a new series of messages from Stephanie appeared.

"Talked to Honor and Lorelai. Birthday party is in good hands. Rest and wait for details. Keeping you posted! – Steph"

A moment later, another message came through. "…and L? Please make sure she eats, drinks, and actually rests."

Logan chuckled, typing back a quick response. "She's asleep in my arms as we speak. You're a golden star, Steph. Thank you. Just bought Charlotte a Louis Vuitton to show appreciation—any ideas on how to thank you? :)"

Stephanie's reply was immediate. "Hold our girl while she sleeps, L, and kiss her from me."

Logan smiled, placing his phone on the nightstand as he turned his attention back to Rory. She lay beside him, her breathing deep and steady, her hand resting protectively over her belly. Gently, he brushed a stray lock of mahogany hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. Leaning down, he placed a soft kiss on her forehead, lingering for a moment before settling his head beside hers. Before long, he drifted into his own much-needed rest.

[Later that Afternoon, 5 PM, Their Master Bedroom]

"Daddy, daddy, daddy!" Leia's excited voice rang out as she scrambled onto the bed, climbing over Logan with boundless energy.

"No, Leia, please let your mummy sleep—LEIA!" Maria, the nanny, tried her best to whisper, clearly struggling to contain the exuberant four-year-old.

Logan chuckled, lifting Leia into his arms. "It's alright, Maria. I'll take it from here," he reassured her, stifling a yawn as he hugged his daughter. "Could you ask Magda to make some fresh decaf, please? And maybe a few snacks for both Rory and Leia?"

As Maria left, Logan's phone buzzed with a new message. He glanced down at the screen and saw a text from Honor: "Need Leia on FaceTime ASAP."

He couldn't help but grin, turning to Leia with a conspiratorial whisper. "Guess what, Leia? Auntie Honor needs our help. Shall we go see what she wants?" He placed a finger over his lips, signaling for her to be quiet as they slipped out of the bedroom.

Before leaving, Logan cast a quick look back at Rory. She stirred slightly, but her eyes remained closed. Smiling, he closed the door softly, hoping she'd take every minute she could to rest.

In the living room, Logan settled Leia on the couch, grabbing the iPad and opening FaceTime. A moment later, Honor's face filled the screen, her eyes lighting up the moment she saw Leia.

"Auntie Honor! Auntie Honor!" Leia clapped her hands, beaming at the screen.

"Princess Leia!" Honor exclaimed, as if seeing royalty. "I desperately need your help! Do you, by any chance, know someone who might be having a birthday this weekend?" Her voice was dripping with playful mystery.

Leia's eyes widened, her excitement palpable. "Me, me, me! It's my birthday, Auntie Honor!" she squealed, grinning from ear to ear.

Logan chuckled, watching the two of them interact like co-conspirators at a secret party. Honor, with all her elegance and flair, matched Leia's energy with ease.

"Perfect!" Honor declared, her eyes sparkling. "Now, would you be alright if Auntie Honor planned the birthday party of the century for you?"

Leia's mouth dropped open, awe-struck. "Yes, Auntie Honor!" she gasped, as if no greater gift could exist.

"Alright then!" Honor clapped her hands. "Now, I need your expert opinion. Do you want a good witch in pink tulle or a magical unicorn for the theme?" She held up two photos for Leia to examine.

Leia studied them carefully, her little brow furrowing as she weighed her options. Finally, she pointed with conviction. "The witch! The good witch in pink!"

Honor laughed, her voice filled with delight. "You've got it, my dear! Now, Auntie Honor has to talk to your daddy for a bit, but I'll see you this weekend. Kisses!" She blew a kiss to the screen, which Leia eagerly returned.

Logan smiled and put on his headphones. "Alright, H. I'm here."

Honor's tone softened. "Anything specific I need to know for Saturday? Plans, special requests?"

Logan gave a small, grateful smile. "Just that you're a lifesaver, honestly. Rory's wiped out. Having you take over the party means everything to her. But definitely loop Lorelai in; she's the Gilmore family's party expert."

Honor chuckled knowingly. "Don't worry, little brother. I'll make sure everything is perfect. You just keep an eye on our girl."

"Thanks, H," Logan said, blowing a kiss to the screen before ending the call. Setting the iPad down, he turned his attention to the snacks Magda had brought in earlier, ready for a cozy evening with Leia and Rory.

[The Manhattan home, Thursday the 20th of June late night]

"So, let me get this straight—Honor and Mom are handling the birthday party on Saturday?" Rory called out from the master bathroom, her voice muffled as she brushed her teeth. "Oh, Logan, that's perfect!"

Logan, already in bed, flipped mindlessly through TV channels, barely looking up. "Mmhmm," he mumbled, obviously too tired to pay full attention.

Rory rolled her eyes, catching his reflection in the mirror. She knew he was exhausted too, but couldn't resist teasing him a little. "So… the polka-dotted elephant will be babysitting Leia tomorrow while I go spaceship shopping?" she called out, a smirk tugging at her lips as she waited for his reaction.

"Mmhmm," Logan repeated, still absorbed in the flashing images on the screen.

Rory stood there, toothbrush in hand, eyebrows raised in amused disbelief. Finally, he glanced up, looking mildly confused. "Uh… what?"

She cracked up, clutching her belly as she laughed. "You!" she exclaimed, pointing her toothbrush at him, her laughter filling the room. Logan tried to look serious, but her laughter was infectious, and he couldn't help but smile.

"Oh, you," he said, shaking his head. "Come here, you naughty wife, with your spaceships and polka-dotted elephants." He waggled a finger at her, gesturing for her to join him in bed.

Smiling, Rory climbed into bed as gracefully as she could with her twin-sized belly in tow. Logan wrapped an arm around her, tucking her in with a pregnancy pillow to keep her comfortable.

They lay there, hand in hand, sharing a quiet, intimate moment. Logan kissed her fingers, then glanced at her with a grin. "So…no spaceship then?"

Rory chuckled. "I guess not. Can't believe I used up my one spaceship allowance back in 2006."

Logan laughed softly, leaning in to kiss her. Their lips met, soft and familiar, the kind of kiss that held years of shared memories and silent promises. Even with the weariness of the day, her need for closeness, for his undivided attention, lingered. She cherished the warmth of his touch, even as they shared the simplest, most comforting moments together.

But suddenly, Rory froze, her body tense beneath his arm. Her eyes widened as she looked past him, toward the TV screen, her hand covering her mouth.

"Lo…Lo…Logan," she stammered, her gaze fixed on the screen.

Logan turned, following her line of sight, and his heart sank. There, on the screen, was a large photo of him and Odette, taken nearly five years ago, during a time he thought he'd left behind.

They both stared, caught off guard by the resurgence of old memories. The photo was from the days when he and Odette were engaged—a past that was supposed to be buried.

The late-night host gleefully dissected the scandal that had rocked their lives back then, interviewing an "expert" who seemed all too eager to speculate on the fallout of their canceled wedding. As the story unfolded, the host painted a sensationalist picture: Logan and Odette, both expecting children with other people mere months before their planned wedding. The scandal that had been largely confined to Europe was now front and center in American media, digging up the past they'd worked so hard to move beyond.

Old paparazzi photos filled the screen: Logan and Rory holding hands in Covent Garden, laughing over lunch with Mitchum, and a particularly intimate moment in a New York café where Logan, sleeves rolled up, leaned down to kiss a visibly pregnant Rory. More photos appeared of Odette with Pierre, the Parisian art dealer who fathered her child, as they strolled through the Louvre together, lost in discussion over Madonna of the Rocks.

Each image, each word, was an attempt to reshape their lives into a spectacle, reducing their choices and struggles into juicy tabloid fodder. The show's host took particular joy in framing Logan and Odette as reckless heirs, flaunting their privilege and disregarding their families' legacy.

The segment ended with a trailer for an upcoming documentary about the Huntzberger family—a glitzy, dramatized version of their lives. Logan felt a chill settle over him. Despite all they'd built, the past had an insidious way of clawing its way back.

He and Rory sat in silence, their quiet evening shattered by the reminders of a world they'd worked hard to escape. What was supposed to be a night of rest now felt like a return to battles they thought they'd already fought.

For a long moment, Rory and Logan sat frozen, the blue glow of the TV casting shadows across the room. Rory was the first to break the silence, her voice a whisper. "Maybe…maybe we should have seen that coming."

Logan kept his gaze fixed on the screen, his expression unreadable. "Yeah," he said, his tone cold and detached. "But when you're building a billion-dollar business and raising three kids, you don't have much time to think about what the world is digging up behind you."

She looked at him, feeling the weight of his words settle around them. After a beat, he turned to meet her gaze, and they simply stared at each other, each searching for something to say, a way to make sense of it all.

Finally, Logan broke the silence, his voice edged with resignation. "I guess running from my fate and trying to make my own life was just a temporary fairytale." His words lingered, a bitter acknowledgment that no matter how far he'd gone, the family name and everything it entailed were inescapable.

The room was thick with unspoken fears, reminders of a reality they both knew existed but had managed to keep at bay—until now. Despite all they had built together, they were still Huntzbergers. The world had a way of reminding them, just when they thought they were free.

As if punctuating his thoughts, Logan's phone buzzed on the nightstand. He glanced down at the message, his expression shifting from resignation to resolve as he typed out a quick text.

"So, did you see The Night Show?" – L

The response came almost immediately.

"Yep." – O

Logan hesitated for a moment before typing again.

"Let's talk tomorrow." – L

Odette's reply was simple, almost a mirror of his own tone.

"Let's." – O

Logan set his phone down, exhaling as he leaned back into the pillows. Across the room, the TV continued to play, now showing a glitzy trailer for an upcoming documentary on the Huntzberger family—a dramatized fairytale of wealth, privilege, and responsibility.

Mitchum's recent congressional announcement had reignited the public's fascination with the Huntzberger legacy, and now Logan and Rory, with The Magna's success, were part of the narrative, dragged into the spotlight once again. The media had woven them back into a story that wasn't entirely theirs—a story about the Huntzbergers, the family with deep roots, high expectations, and a legacy everyone wanted to dissect.

Rory reached over, placing a hand over his. Her touch was a grounding reminder that, despite the noise outside, they were still a team, and whatever came next, they would face it together.

They stayed like that, hand in hand, letting the quiet settle around them as they braced for whatever the morning would bring.

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