The Ruthless CEO's Revenge Wife
Chapter 102: Plotting a Fake Marriage Husband’s Murder

Chapter 102: Plotting a Fake Marriage Husband’s Murder

"So? You didn’t seem to care then."

"I was angry," Logan admitted, hands sliding into his pockets. "And pushy. A terrible combination, Adams."

Jean glanced at the tray again, then took a piece of kiwi and popped it in her mouth. "You’re not entirely forgiven."

"I didn’t expect to be."

There was a beat of silence between them.

Then he said, "My parents called asking if we were coming tonight. For dinner. You promised to meet them."

Jean froze slightly, then leaned back. "And you think I’ll still show up with you after this morning showdown?"

Logan shrugged. "Honestly, I don’t know. But I’m asking you to. You know... we have to keep up with the appearances plus the contract you signed."

Her lips parted as if to argue, but the words didn’t come. He turned to leave, sensing she needed space. But just as his hand reached the doorknob...

"I’ll be ready by seven," she said, her voice cool but decisive.

Logan turned back, surprised.

Jean stood, brushing invisible lint from her robe. "You wanted a wife for display. I’ll play the part tonight."

"Jean..."

"But don’t expect smiles." She met his gaze. "And don’t expect me to pretend we’re something we’re not."

His jaw clenched. "I never asked you to pretend entirely. Just don’t make me regret taking you to meet my parents."

She smiled... cold, composed, devastatingly elegant. "Oh, Logan. I think we’ve both learned that regret comes naturally in this marriage."

And with that, she turned her back to him and walked to her dressing room, leaving him standing there... plate empty, ego bruised, and chest uncomfortably tight.

___________________________

Jean stood in the middle of the luxury closet Logan has it prepared for her that could rival a boutique showroom, arms crossed, eyes narrowed at the wardrobe like it had personally offended her.

"I should wear black," she muttered. "That screams business. Distant. Untouchable."

She reached for a sleek black jumpsuit.

"Or maybe red..." Her fingers grazed a silky crimson dress with a slit that could end conversations. "Too aggressive? Too ’I married your son and I bite’?"

She groaned and dropped onto the velvet bench in the center of the room. "What am I doing?"

Frustrated, she grabbed her phone and hit Emma’s number.

After a few rings, the line clicked.

"Hey," came Emma’s voice... soft, but not nearly as heavy as the day before.

Jean perked up instantly. "You sound... normal."

"Gee, thanks."

Jean heard her soft chuckle.

"No, I mean it," Jean said with a half-smile. "Yesterday you sounded like someone had stolen all the joy from your soul."

Emma gave a light laugh. "It was nothing. Just... feeling weird about you being married now. I guess I’ll have to book appointments to see you."

Jean leaned her head against the wardrobe door. "Don’t be dramatic. It’s not like the marriage is real. I didn’t suddenly turn into a domesticated housewife."

"You’re not cooking dinner?"

"He is," Jean muttered. "Shirtless, by the way. As if I needed more distractions while trying not to commit murder."

Emma laughed again, but then grew quiet. "Still, Jean... are you okay?"

Jean blinked, a flicker of sincerity softening her voice. "Yeah... I’m fine. For now, at least."

She didn’t elaborate.

She couldn’t.

Not about the real reason... the separate contract Logan had slid across the table with his own cold clauses. The rules she’d agreed to. The emotional battlefield she had walked into willingly.

Emma broke the pause. "Do you regret it?"

Jean glanced toward the mirror, where two dresses hung... one sleek and cold, the other soft and alluring.

"I regret that I didn’t have a better choice," Jean said quietly. "If I hadn’t married Logan, they would’ve taken everything. My shares... my name... and handed me over to that obsessive snake, Tyler Dominic."

Emma’s voice hardened. "I wish I could’ve done something."

"You are doing something," Jean said gently. "You’re still here."

Another pause passed before Jean added, "Now tell me, Em. Should I go full boss lady or pretend to be the sweet wife who’s totally not plotting a fake marriage husband’s murder?"

Emma didn’t miss a beat. "Wear the red one. Let them know you may be playing the wife, but you’re still a threat."

Jean laughed. "You always know what I need to hear."

"That’s why I’m your best friend. Now go turn those in laws into nervous wrecks."

_____________________________

Logan sat on the edge of the sleek couch, one leg bouncing restlessly as he checked his watch again.

6:30 p.m.

He exhaled sharply through his nose. She’s not coming.

He leaned back, jaw clenched. Maybe the fight was too much. Maybe she’s finally had enough of playing pretend...

Then he heard it.

The sharp, deliberate click of heels descending the stairs. Measured. Confidence. Unapologetic.

Logan stood, turning toward the sound... and forgot how to breathe.

Jean was a vision in red.

The dress hugged her like it had been sewn into her skin, the slit running up one thigh with just enough defiance. Her hair framed her face in elegant waves, lips painted the shade of danger.

And her expression?

Unbothered. Regal. Ready to win.

He cleared his throat, forcibly yanking his gaze back to her eyes. "Took you long enough. Didn’t think slipping into one piece of fabric would require a whole damn strategy."

Jean descended the last step, pausing with an arched brow. "This particular piece of fabric required time and patience. After all..." She glanced down at herself with a smirk. "It suits my reputation."

Logan’s lips twitched, torn between a scoff and admiration. "Right. You look like you’re about to make a corporate announcement. Or launch a coup."

She sauntered past him with a wink. "Then it’s perfect."

He shook his head and moved to the door, pulling it open. "Ladies first," he said dryly.

Jean stopped beside him. "Trying to be a gentleman?"

"Trying to survive the evening without bloodshed."

She stepped through the doorway without missing a beat. "Then don’t get in my way."

Logan followed, lips curving into a half smile he didn’t bother hiding.

This is going to be fun.