The Ruthless CEO's Revenge Wife-Chapter 191: A Rat in the Corporation
Chapter 191: A Rat in the Corporation
Hannah swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded firmly.
"I will."
Jean handed her the campaign deck back. "Go. Print this and put it on my desk for final sign off."
"On it, boss."
As Hannah turned to leave, Jean called out.. "And Hannah?"
She paused.
"You’re not just an intern anymore."
The girl’s face lit up like the sunrise. And Jean, for the first time that day, allowed herself a small, real smile.
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The front door clicked open.
Logan stepped in, his jacket slung over one shoulder, tie half loosened, hair slightly wind blown from the rooftop helipad. His whole body ached from back to back meetings and a stubborn investor call that had run two hours too long.
He was craving a hot shower, maybe leftovers, and the quiet comfort of Jean’s presence.
What he didn’t expect was chaos.
The living room was a battlefield... open files spread across the coffee table, half her laptop screen lit with spreadsheets and the other with a chain of angry emails.
Highlighter caps, scribbled notes, printouts. Jean sat in the middle of it all, hair loosely tied up, wearing one of his oversized shirts and an expression that made his stomach twist.
Not from panic. But... pressure.
"Hey," he said softly, dropping his bag and walking in slowly, like he might spook her.
She didn’t look up. "You’re late. I’m starving."
"I brought sushi."
That made her glance over. Her eyes were tired, shadowed. "You always bring sushi when you think I’m on the verge of burning the place down."
"It works every time."
He walked over and crouched beside her, scanning the mess.
"Did you print out a war plan?"
Jean let out a breathy laugh. Then dropped her pen. "I wish it were that simple."
Logan reached over and moved a coffee mug away from the edge of a stack of folders. "What’s going on?"
Jean leaned back against the couch and looked at him, finally, her expression softer but no less stressed.
"Everything’s spiraling."
She waved toward the files.
"Two influencers backed out at the last minute from the campaign... citing vague ’brand mismatch.’ One of our product ingredients was flagged by customs because of an anonymous report. And get this..." She picked up her phone and showed him the screen. "The article came out before we were even notified internally."
Logan’s brows furrowed. "Someone’s leaking from inside?"
Jean nodded. "Or the rival company planting the problems themselves."
She didn’t want to say it, not yet but something felt wrong. Like she wasn’t just reacting to accidents... but fighting against an invisible hand guiding the chaos.
Logan studied her carefully, then placed his hand gently on her knee. "You’re not crazy."
Jean blinked. "I didn’t say I was."
"No, but you’re starting to doubt yourself. I can see it." He took the files from her lap, placed them neatly on the coffee table, then took her hands in his. "Let’s figure this out. Together."
Jean looked at him, tired and tense and a little grateful. "You already have your own empire to run."
"Yeah," he said, brushing her thumb with his. "But this..." He leaned in and kissed her forehead. "This is where I come home."
The files were pushed aside, the lights dimmed low.
Jean sat cross legged on the floor, Logan beside her with the sushi container open between them, his chopsticks already stealing a piece of her favorite spicy tuna roll. "You always steal the best ones," she muttered, nudging his knee.
"You always let me," he shot back with a lazy grin.
She huffed... but didn’t stop him.
For a while, they just ate in silence, the quiet broken only by the soft clink of chopsticks and the city’s distant hum. It was the first moment of stillness Jean had felt all day, and maybe that’s why she finally let her head drop gently onto Logan’s shoulder.
He didn’t say anything at first... just leaned his cheek against her hair.
Then, softly...
"Jean."
"Mm?"
"You’re running yourself into the ground trying to fix symptoms."
She straightened slightly. "You think I’m not seeing the real problem?"
He set his box down and turned toward her, voice low but steady.
"I think... someone’s making this happen. Not just random setbacks. These are too coordinated."
Jean’s gaze sharpened.
"You think it’s coming from inside?"
Logan hesitated. "You have staff who’ve been with you for years. But even the best teams can be blindsided. Someone could’ve been bought. Or threatened. Or just... disillusioned."
Jean bit her bottom lip, heart twisting.
"I trust my people."
"I know you do." He reached over and gently brushed a thumb along her cheekbone. "But I also know you’re too smart not to check."
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Later that Night...
Jean sat alone in the study with the room lit only by her screen.
The IT folder Logan had quietly helped her request was open... access logs from the past three weeks.
At first, it was all routine.
Then her eyes froze.
User ID: E.Murray [[email protected]], Login Time: 2:17 AM, Accessed File: Q3 Influencer Strategy – Confidential, IP Address: Internal Wi-Fi (Device ID: AB-Hall6)
Her breath caught.
Emma’s account. But Emma was in a coma. In the hospital.
And this wasn’t a remote access... it was from inside the company.
Jean’s hand trembled slightly as she reached for her phone.
The security camera backup for that timestamp?
Missing.
She leaned back in her chair slowly, pulse rising. Something wasn’t right. Someone had the keys to her kingdom... and was already walking its halls in the dark.
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The light of dawn filtered into the room like a sigh.
Jean stood by the vanity, buttoning up her cream blouse with slightly shaking hands. Her reflection looked polished... blazer draped over the back of the chair, her hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, lipstick precise.
But her skin was pale. A fine sheen of sweat had started to form at her temple.
A sudden jolt of pain twisted low in her abdomen, and she gripped the table edge for balance.
Logan, still shirtless and toweling his hair from the bathroom, caught the moment. He was by her side in an instant.
"Jean?"
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