The Ruthless CEO's Revenge Wife-Chapter 197: Sneaky Kingsleys

Jean’s blood turned cold. The spoon in her hand clinked against the plate.

Logan looked over instantly. "What’s wrong?"

Jean raised a finger to pause him, still listening. "Where is Susan now?"

"Scheduled to clock in tonight. But... Jean, what if someone’s telling her what to do?"

Jean nodded slowly. "We need to know who she’s reporting to."

"Should I keep following this quietly?" Hannah asked.

Jean’s eyes flicked to Logan. His worry was already written across his face.

"Yes. But Hannah... be careful. No more talking about this near reception. Not even to me. Message only. Understood?"

"Got it."

Jean hung up.

Logan raised an eyebrow in question. "Bad news?"

Jean didn’t even sugarcoat it. She didn’t need to hide it from him.

"The woman logging in as Emma has been inside my office at night. She’s asking questions. Watching. Waiting. And someone’s pulling her strings."

Logan’s expression darkened instantly. "That’s it. I’m coming with you today. It’s not safe Jean, what are you even doing?"

"No. You have your meetings. Focus on your work and let me focus on mine."

"I’ll cancel them."

Jean stood, brushing crumbs off her lap. "Logan. I’ve been hunted before. I know the scent. This time, I’m not running. I’m going to flush them out."

He stepped toward her slowly, gaze sharp. "Then I’m not letting you walk into that alone."

Jean stared back.

Two stubborn souls. But for once, fighting together.

Of course Logan couldn’t win. Not yet.

________________________

The car came to a soft halt in front of Jean’s building.

Jean didn’t wait for the driver to open the door... she was already grabbing her bag and adjusting her blazer with practiced elegance.

Logan watched her from the passenger side.

Sharp. Unshaken. Controlled. Exactly the image she wanted the world to see.

She turned to him before stepping out.

"Don’t forget your afternoon meeting with Jared. Your father is excited about the yacht party."

He nodded, eyes scanning her face one last time. "Don’t forget lunch."

She rolled her eyes with a faint smirk. "Yes, Dad."

But something about her tone was too breezy. The kind of joke that masked the truth. She shut the door, heels clicking confidently as she walked inside.

Logan stayed seated for a few seconds longer, his jaw tense.

He knew her too well.

Breakfast had gone down only because he was there to watch her take each bite. But once she was inside that office, surrounded by stress, deadlines, and silent guilt... Jean would forget her own body again. Like she always did.

And she’d never admit it... not even to herself.

Logan reached for his phone and dialed.

Hannah.

She picked up cheerfully. "Oh? Calling me again? Twice in two days? You’re getting soft, big brother."

"Jean just got in."

There was a pause. "Okay...? Is she going to kill me or something?"

"I need you to keep an eye on her. Not the weird stalker kind... just... check if she’s drinking water. Offer snacks. Drag her out for lunch if you can."

Hannah didn’t tease him this time.

Her voice turned quiet. "She’s really not okay, is she?"

Logan stared out the car window, watching the reflection of Jean’s tall building stretch into the sky.

"Not yet."

"I’ll do it," Hannah said. "I’ll pretend I just want to hang out or ask for work stuff, but I’ll make sure she eats."

Logan’s shoulders relaxed... just slightly.

"Thanks, Han."

"You owe me dessert. And don’t go full caveman on her, okay? She’s not porcelain. Just... tired."

Logan smirked faintly.

"She’s not porcelain," he repeated. "She’s iron."

"Yeah but iron rusts too."

The morning was packed... three internal reviews, one rescheduled board call, and a new vendor presentation all before lunch.

Jean barely had time to blink, much less breathe.

She was in the middle of sending an email when her office door creaked open. Without looking, she said, "I thought I told you to knock unless there’s fire."

"Technically, I did knock," Hannah said, slipping in with an overly innocent smile.

Jean finally looked up.

"What now?"

Hannah dropped into the chair across from her. "Just checking in. Wanted to borrow your signature on a few approvals."

She waved a thin folder like a flag, but Jean noticed the other hand.

A granola bar.

Jean narrowed her eyes. "You’re bringing me snacks now?"

Hannah shrugged. "Just in case. You skipped breakfast again, right?"

Jean frowned.

"No, I didn’t."

"You took two bites and declared it enough to survive a famine."

Jean opened her mouth to argue and realized Hannah had probably been briefed.

She gave a flat look. "Did Logan put you up to this?"

Hannah blinked. Too quickly.

"Noooo..." Then "...maybe."

Jean sighed.

"I don’t need a babysitter."

"And yet here I am. Your favorite intern with a suspicious number of snack options in her tote."

She reached in and placed a small pack of salted crackers on Jean’s desk with exaggerated care. "For when you start getting cranky."

Jean scoffed. "I don’t get cranky."

"You once told a marketing executive to ’go live in a cave’ because he wanted pink packaging for a men’s line."

Jean’s lips twitched. "...That was still a valid point."

They both laughed.

Hannah didn’t linger long. She got the signature, gave Jean an intentionally dramatic salute, and bounced.

But when the same thing happened again at 1:30, and then 4 PM, Jean finally stared at her with suspicion.

"Do you have anything better to do?"

Hannah tilted her head. "Nope. My only mission is to make sure our Queen Jean doesn’t starve to death in her glass castle."

Jean rolled her eyes but didn’t argue this time.

Because deep down... beneath the exhaustion, the pressure, and the guilt... It felt kind of nice.

To be remembered.

To be watched over. With care.

To have someone sneak in crackers and concern when she refused to ask for either.

And maybe Logan was behind this. But Jean could see Hannah’s eyes too... the quiet admiration, the sincere worry.

Why is she so cute all the time?

Jean smirked softly to herself as she sipped from the bottle of water Hannah had also left behind.

"Sneaky Kingsleys..."