The Ruthless CEO's Revenge Wife-Chapter 179: Glittering Heels and Overpriced Belts

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Chapter 179: Glittering Heels and Overpriced Belts

Logan descended the staircase, adjusting his cufflinks, his suit crisp and his face set in that classic CEO expression... all sharp focus and calm authority. He paused when he saw the scene unfolding near the door.

Martha Kingsley stood in full mall commander mode. Dressed to impress in a cream blazer, oversized sunglasses pushed up onto her sleek bob, she looked like she was leading a red carpet invasion instead of a retail therapy session.

And a few feet away, Hannah leaned against the wall, scrolling her phone.

The Kingsley mansion buzzed with unexpected energy that morning... not from a high-stakes deal or political tension, but something rarer... a girls only shopping mission. fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com

Jean stood by the door, her expression caught between amusement and mild panic. Dressed casually in a blush-toned blouse and jeans, she clutched her handbag like a shield.

"I’ve decided," Martha announced grandly, "that today, we buy joy. Preferably in the form of heels, handbags, and pastries with absolutely no nutritional value."

Jean blinked. "I... was under the impression this was a light outing."

Martha gasped. "Darling. There’s no such thing as light shopping."

Before Jean could protest, Hannah skipped into view, wearing an adorable pink skater dress, a tiny purse swinging off her wrist, and her eyes practically sparkling.

"Isn’t this exciting?" Hannah chirped, practically bouncing. "A full girls’ day! I even painted my nails to match Jean’s company logo." She held up her hands proudly... perfect pastel lavender.

Jean blinked, taken aback. "You... did?"

Hannah nodded eagerly. "Of course! You’re my boss and my fashion icon. You don’t understand, Jean... working at your company is like a dream. But shopping with you? Actual bucket list moment."

Jean flushed slightly, caught off guard by the genuine admiration. "Well, uh... thanks."

Martha raised an eyebrow, amused. "See? Even your intern knows a power woman needs retail refreshment."

"You three are really doing this?" Logan asked dryly, though his lips twitched with a smile.

Jean shrugged helplessly. "Apparently I’ve been conscripted."

Logan’s gaze softened. He stepped forward and leaned in to press a quick kiss to her forehead. Jean stiffened for half a second, surprised, before meeting his eyes.

"Behave," he murmured, so only she could hear.

"No promises," she replied, a flicker of mischief in her tone.

Martha made a dramatic swooning sound. "Romance before retail? This day just keeps getting better."

Hannah grinned. "I ship this."

Logan gave Jean one last look... one that lingered a little longer than necessary... before heading out the door for work.

As soon as it clicked shut behind him, Martha clapped her hands.

"Alright, ladies. To the mall. We have shoes to try, lipsticks to judge, and cinnamon rolls to devour like wolves."

Jean sighed. "Why do I feel like I’ve been kidnapped by sparkly pirates?"

"Because you have," Hannah said, slipping her arm through Jean’s like a younger sister. "And we’re sailing toward sequins."

And for the first time in days, Jean smiled... really smiled... as they stepped out into the sunlight together.

__________________________

The mall was alive with color, lights, and the soft buzz of weekend excitement. Designer storefronts sparkled under the artificial glow, mannequins flaunted impossible fashion standards, and laughter floated through the air like perfume.

Jean, Martha, and Hannah entered one of the more upscale boutiques... the kind where even the hangers looked like they had an attitude.

"I’m already in love," Hannah whispered, eyes locked on a rhinestone clutch that glittered under a spotlight like it was auditioning for Broadway.

Martha waved her hand. "Alright, team. Spread out. Find something fabulous for our girl Jean to try. She’s far too chic to keep dressing like she’s heading to war with spreadsheets."

"I am heading to war with spreadsheets," Jean muttered, but it was lost under Hannah’s gasp.

"Oh my gosh, this would look amazing on you!"

Hannah returned holding a figure-hugging champagne silk dress, the kind that looked like it belonged on a red carpet... or a scandalous magazine cover.

Jean’s eyes widened. "I’d rather walk into traffic."

"Don’t be dramatic," Martha said, snatching the dress from Hannah and hooking two more onto her arm. "You’re trying it. And these. Ooh, and that."

Ten minutes and seven hangers later, Jean stood inside the boutique’s plush dressing room, surrounded by chaos... heels scattered across the floor, accessories tumbling off the velvet stool, and Hannah gleefully narrating every outfit from just outside the curtain.

"Okay! We’re starting with the deep emerald one... you know, ’I’m elegant but I could ruin your life’ vibes!"

Jean laughed under her breath, slipping into the dress.

To her dismay... it actually looked stunning.

She pulled the curtain aside hesitantly.

Martha’s eyes lit up. "Oh."

Hannah clapped. "Oh my God, you look like a CEO who moonlights as a Bond girl!"

Jean glanced at herself in the mirror. The dress hugged her just right, the neckline sharp, the color rich against her skin. She felt exposed... but powerful.

"Too much?" she asked quietly.

"No," Martha said, her voice gentler now. "It’s just enough."

Jean’s smile faltered... just a little... as she turned away from the mirror. "I don’t usually dress like this."

"You don’t usually let anyone take care of you, either," Martha replied, her tone light but meaningful.

There was a pause.

Then Jean laughed. "Alright. One dress. That’s it."

"Please," Martha said with a smirk. "This is only Level One."

The next twenty minutes were a blur of fabric, laughter, and Hannah nearly tripping over a pair of stilettos she insisted Jean had to try on.

At one point, Jean sat on the bench inside the dressing room while changing, a soft silence falling over her for the first time since they’d arrived.

From outside the curtain, Hannah’s voice came quietly.

"Hey, Jean?"

"Yeah?"

"I’m... really glad you’re with us. I know things have been hard, but I just... I wanted you to know that I look up to you a lot. And Emma does too."

Jean blinked, caught off guard.

She slowly pulled back the curtain.

Hannah was standing there, holding a pair of glitter heels too big for her own feet.

"I used to think strong women were always loud. But you’re strong in this quiet way that makes people stop and listen. I think that’s even cooler."

Jean stared at her for a second... heart unsteady... before saying, softly...

"Thank you."

And somewhere between designer heels and overpriced belts, something in Jean’s chest loosened.

Not entirely. But just enough to breathe.

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