The Ruthless CEO's Revenge Wife-Chapter 201: Stood For Her

Martha clapped her hands once. "Alright, lovebirds and drama queens... dinner’s almost ready. I made enough to feed a small army, and no one’s leaving until Jean finishes two servings. Doctor’s orders. And by doctor, I mean me."

Jean raised a brow. "What if I’m not hungry?"

Martha narrowed her eyes. "Then Logan can feed you. Bite by bite."

Jean blinked. Hannah howled in excitement. Logan? He just smirked.

"I’m okay with that."

Jean rolled her eyes, but warmth bloomed in her chest.

Maybe she wasn’t fully healed. Maybe the chaos wasn’t over.

But at that moment... with stew warming in the kitchen, laughter bouncing off the walls, and Logan’s hand resting gently on the small of her back... Jean felt something unfamiliar.

Safe.

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The dining room was filled with warmth... the golden clinking of cutlery, the faint aroma of garlic and herbs, and Martha humming some old tune as she set the table.

Logan had disappeared upstairs to change out of his workday armor, and Jean, still moving slower than usual, walked over to the long table where Hannah sat already.

Only... she wasn’t quite sitting.

She was shrinking.

Her shoulders were hunched. Eyes on her lap. Her phone clutched a little too tightly. Her lips pressed into a thin, unmoving line.

And she hadn’t said a word since that loud, goofy entrance earlier.

Jean narrowed her eyes.

She slid into the chair beside her, quiet at first, as Martha bustled nearby.

Then softly, "Did something weird happen at the office?"

Hannah’s head snapped up just a little too fast.

"What? No. I mean... nothing that wasn’t handled. Logan was amazing, actually. He just... shut them all down."

Jean tilted her head. Logan? In her office?

"That wasn’t what I asked."

Hannah looked like she was trying to find an escape route in her own hands. She laughed... brittle and brief.

"The board’s just... Well, they were mad about your absence, obviously. Gerald Monroe said a few things, but Logan handled it before it got worse. You don’t need to worry."

Jean didn’t respond. She was puzzled after hearing her.

Just kept watching her.

And after a beat too long, Hannah finally glanced up... and that’s when Jean saw it.

Not fear.

Guilt.

It sat behind her eyes like a shadow.

Jean leaned in, voice low enough that only Hannah could hear.

"Did someone say something about me, Hannah? Logan wouldn’t go to my office otherwise... I know him by now. He is calculative, he wouldn’t do anything impulsive."

Hannah hesitated.

"They were talking like... like maybe you weren’t strong enough anymore. Like the pressure was cracking you. That maybe someone else should step in and ’stabilize’ things. I was going to say something but Logan... he came in like a storm. He shut it down before I even opened my mouth."

Jean’s jaw tightened but not from shock.

From the familiarity of it.

"And what did you say?" she asked quietly.

Hannah looked stricken. "I... I didn’t. I... I froze, Jean. I wanted to defend you. I should have. But Logan just... he did it so fast, so fiercely. By the time I realized, the room was already quiet."

Jean nodded slowly.

She wasn’t angry. Not exactly.

But she was disappointed. And Hannah could feel it.

Still, Jean reached across the table and gently placed her hand over Hannah’s.

"Then make sure next time, you speak up before someone else has to do it for you."

Hannah’s eyes stung a little, but she nodded.

Just then, Martha called from across the kitchen.

"Logan, hurry up! Or your wife and sister will eat all the dumplings!"

Jean raised a brow at Hannah and smirked.

"She really has no idea who she’s talking to."

And for the first time that evening, Hannah cracked a smile.

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Dinner had ended.

Martha had taken Hannah home with promises of dropping off soup for the next three days. The house was dim, still holding onto the cozy warmth of shared laughter and clinking glasses.

Jean stood in the living room, arms folded across her chest, watching Logan return from the kitchen with two glasses of water.

She took hers silently.

Then softly asked him, "Why did you do it?"

Logan paused mid-sip. "Do what?"

"Go to the board meeting. In my place."

Logan set his glass down. She didn’t sound angry. Just... conflicted. That was worse somehow.

Jean shifted, the silk of her robe rustling softly. "I get that you meant well. I do. But it was my place to stand there. To defend myself. You took that away from me."

Logan ran a hand through his hair. "You passed out less than twenty four hours ago, Jean."

"That doesn’t mean I can’t lead."

"It means your body is begging you to stop proving you don’t need help."

Jean blinked.

He stepped closer, voice low but steady.

"You built that company from dust. Everyone knows that. But that boardroom? It’s full of snakes, and I knew they’d try to strike when you were down. And I wasn’t about to sit here and watch them do it."

Jean looked at him... tired, raw, but standing tall.

"You still should’ve told me. You made that choice for me."

Logan’s jaw tightened.

Then he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.

He handed it to her.

Jean took it, brows drawing in as she opened it. It was a printed clause. Her own signature at the bottom. But it wasn’t exactly hers, it’s forged one.

"Emergency spousal authority," Logan said softly. "I told them about a merger agreement between us. I will handle the work until you are properly back on your feet."

"Logan you lied to them without even discussing this with me."

"I used it.... I know it’s not right," Logan said. "But we can make it legally. Temporarily. To buy you time to recover. Nothing more."

Jean looked at the paper again. Then up at him.

"You really think I’m breaking?"

Logan stepped forward, cupping her cheek.

"No. I think you’re burning."

She swallowed.

"I don’t want you to think I can’t fight my own battles."

"You can. You have. But tell me, Jean... when’s the last time someone stood for you?"

She didn’t answer.

Because she didn’t know.

Logan leaned down, brushing a kiss to her forehead.

"Let this one be mine."