The Ruthless CEO's Revenge Wife-Chapter 196: The Unsettling Breakfast

Logan was quiet. He thought a lot about this, Jean always had a problem with food. He had noticed it so many times. Could it be an eating disorder?

"She won’t tell me anything. Always says she’s ’fine.’"

"That’s her favorite lie brother." Hannah muttered.

"I know, I just hope she could express it to me." He let out a soft sigh. "Thanks, Han."

"Don’t just thank me. Do something. Do I have to remind you that you are her husband?"

Logan chuckled. "I’m trying."

She snorted. "Try harder, brother dearest. She listens to you even when she pretends she doesn’t."

Logan smiled faintly.

Then the line clicked off.

And he stood there for a while, staring at the untouched cup of herbal tea on the counter... the one he’d made just in case she came home looking pale and aching again.

_________________________

The lock clicked softly as Jean stepped inside.

She didn’t expect to find Logan awake... It was nearly midnight but as she pushed the door open, the lights in the living room were still on. Dim. Cozy.

And he was there.

Sitting on the couch, legs stretched out, laptop pushed aside. Hair slightly messy, sleeves rolled up, and a blanket thrown over the back of the couch like he’d been waiting for a while.

Jean paused in the doorway, fingers still on the handle.

"You didn’t have to wait up."

Logan looked up, eyes scanning her face for signs of everything she wasn’t saying.

"I wanted to."

She slipped off her shoes quietly and walked into the room, her steps slower than usual.

He noticed. Of course he did.

She sat down beside him wordlessly, the space between them barely an inch.

Neither spoke for a moment.

Then Logan handed her the mug... warm, herbal, familiar. She didn’t even have to ask.

"Chamomile." His voice was gentle. Somehow it is soothing for her ears after a long tiring day.She took it with both hands. Hold it close. But Didn’t drink.

"You saw Emma?"

Jean nodded once. When she spoke, her voice was paper-thin. "She looks the same. Like time just... paused for her."

Logan didn’t push.

He just rested his arm along the back of the couch... not touching her yet, just there.

"Henry goes every night," Jean said quietly. "He talks to her. Tell her about his day. Brings her flowers. Even lotion. You were right about him." She blinked hard, staring into the tea. "I haven’t gone once. Not since the police questioned me."

Logan turned to her.

"Because you blame yourself."

Jean didn’t answer, which was still enough.

After a moment, he reached over and gently took the mug from her hands, setting it on the table.

Then his arms wrapped around her... slowly, carefully... like he wasn’t sure if she’d allow it.

She did.

Jean leaned in without resistance, resting her head against his shoulder, the rhythm of his breathing anchoring her in a way she hadn’t realized she needed.

"She wouldn’t want you to carry this alone," Logan said softly into her hair. "And neither do I."

Jean didn’t cry.

But something in her posture melted. Like she’d finally let someone else carry the weight... just for tonight.

And for now, that was enough.

__________________________

The dining table was already set when Jean walked in, still tugging at the hem of her cashmere robe.

Golden sunlight flooded through the large windows, catching the steam rising from a porcelain teapot. One of Logan’s morning staff... neat in his uniform... bowed politely and gestured to the freshly laid breakfast.

"Good morning, Mrs. Kingsley."

Jean blinked.

It still felt strange, hearing that.

She gave a faint nod before slipping into her seat at the long, dark wood table. Logan was already there, dressed for the office but with his sleeves still rolled up. His tie lay beside his plate... untouched.

He looked up when she sat.

"You’re late. That’s a fine for breakfast court."

"Sue me," she muttered, reaching for her tea.

Logan glanced at the food in front of her. Toast. Eggs. Fruit. Not touched.

"What happened? Not feeling like eating?"

Jean sipped her tea and said nothing.

His eyes narrowed.

"Jean."

"Don’t start." She sighed. "I wasn’t hungry. The cramps make me nauseous sometimes, it’s a good thing today’s my last day of periods. So, the water’s fine."

Logan set his fork down.

The staff around them continued to work silently, clearing the far end of the table, refilling the juice carafe, but Logan didn’t care about appearances now.

"You really think water counts as breakfast?"

"Logan..." Jean warned him. Dared him to start again. ƒreewebɳovel.com

"No. Come on." He stood and came around the table. "You need actual food. Even something light."

She frowned, whispering so the staff wouldn’t hear. "Don’t fuss in front of them."

He leaned down slightly, his voice just as low. "Then don’t skip meals in front of me."

A second later, he reached for her plate and added two slices of toast and a poached egg himself. Then he sat beside her, nudging it toward her.

"One bite. I won’t shut up until you do."

Jean stared at him. And took the bite. "Happy now?"

He grinned, satisfied. "More than you know."

Just then, Jean’s phone buzzed beside her plate. She reached for it lazily... until she saw the name.

Hannah.

And just like that, the comfort around them sharpened into something colder.

"That girl has timing," Logan muttered.

Jean picked up with a half-smile. "Make it quick. I’m in the middle of having a toast war."

But Hannah’s voice was hushed. Urgent. "Jean... I found her."

Jean’s hand froze. "Who?"

"Susan. The cleaning staff ID we flagged... I checked last night’s security footage. She’s not just using Emma’s login. She was in your office two nights ago."

Jean sat up straighter. "What was she doing?"

"I couldn’t tell. She was careful. But get this... she never uses the elevator key card registered to her ID. She always waits until someone from the executive floor leaves and then slips in behind them."

Jean’s lips parted. "She’s hiding her movements."

"Exactly." Hannah hesitated, then added, "I also overheard something weird this morning. One of the receptionists said Susan was asking about Emma’s condition. Who does that unless they’re nervous she might wake up?"