The Ruthless CEO's Revenge Wife
Chapter 136: The Buried Pain

Chapter 136: The Buried Pain

Tears filled her eyes, burning hot.

"I don’t know how to believe that," she confessed, voice cracking. "I want to... but I’m so tired of being proven wrong."

Logan reached for her hand, slowly, giving her every second to pull away.

She didn’t.

He held her trembling fingers, pressed them to his lips.

"Then let me prove you wrong for once," he whispered. "Let me be the one thing you don’t have to run from."

And in that moment, with all the scars unspoken between them, Jean didn’t say a word. She just gripped his hand tighter... like it was the only thing anchoring her to a world that still had a chance to feel safe.

The room was dim, the soft hum of machines the only sound between them. Logan still held her hand... warmer now, though trembling... and Jean had yet to let go.

But something in her eyes had changed. That sharp edge of defiance softened, replaced by something deeper. Wounded. Guarded.

Logan’s voice was low but unwavering. "Why did you say it’s useless to call the police?" He needed to hear it. No more shadows. No more silences that screamed.

Jean’s expression froze. Her lips parted, then pressed together again, as if the words were knives on her tongue.

"I..." Her voice broke, barely audible. "I once tried. I did go to the police when I was..." She faltered. The weight of that memory, that night... too raw, too brutal.

Logan leaned forward, his brows furrowed in pain. "When you were what, Jean?"

She shook her head violently. "Don’t ask me that." Her voice cracked as she pulled her hand away, hugging herself instead. "I can’t... I won’t say it out loud. I’ll break."

Logan’s throat tightened. He could see the torment in her eyes. This wasn’t resistance... it was survival.

But this time, he couldn’t let her retreat. Not into that silence. Not again.

"I need to know," he said firmly, though his voice was laced with guilt for pushing. "Jean, whatever happened... whatever they did... you don’t have to carry it alone anymore. But I need you to let me in. If you can’t say it, just tell me what happened after. Tell me what the police did."

Jean clenched her jaw, her eyes gleaming with unshed tears.

"They did nothing," she whispered bitterly. "Because by the time I got there, my family had already paid them off. The report was gone. The officer in charge wouldn’t even meet my eyes. Just handed me a tissue and said, ’You should go home, Miss Adams. This will ruin your relationship with your family.’"

Her voice trembled, trembling with rage and shame. "And they laughed. Behind the desk. Like I was a child who scraped her knee. Like I didn’t matter."

Logan felt the blood drain from his face, replaced with cold, simmering fury. His hands curled into fists. The thought of Jean... his wife... walking into that station alone, broken, only to be silenced and erased by money and power...

It made his stomach turn.

"You were hurt by your parents," he said through gritted teeth. "And they covered it up. For what? Their pride? Their fucking name?"

Jean blinked hard, staring at the wall. "That’s what old money does, Logan. It buys silence. It buries pain. And I was stupid to think the truth ever mattered."

"Don’t say that," he hissed, his voice rough. "The truth does matter. You matter. Jean, I swear to you... if you let me... I will burn their name to the ground. I’ll go to the courts. I’ll find evidence. I’ll fight with every drop of blood in me to get you justice."

Her eyes slowly returned to his. She saw it... that flicker.

Not just anger.

No pity.

It was devotion. Fury laced with care. A man who didn’t see her as broken, but someone worth protecting, no matter the cost.

And that terrified her more than anything.

Because it gave her hope.

Hope that maybe she wasn’t alone. But that same hope twisted like a blade inside her.

"This marriage..." she said slowly, her voice cracking, "It’s for one year. You know that. And when it ends... what happens then? You’ll have my enemies chasing you. Your reputation... your company... your family... you’ll lose everything."

"I don’t care," he growled.

"You should care!" she snapped, suddenly breathless. "You’ve worked so hard to become who you are. Don’t throw it all away for me."

Logan stood now, jaw clenched, eyes blazing. "You think I give a damn about my company when the woman I..." He stopped himself, swallowing hard. "When you are out there getting dragged through hell alone?"

Jean blinked rapidly.

"Let me destroy them," he whispered. "Let me protect you. Even if we’re married for just one year... let me spend every day of it fighting for you. Please."

Her heart thudded painfully.

Logan Kingsley, the man who was supposed to be her enemy, was now the only person standing between her and the ghosts of her past.

And maybe... just maybe... she didn’t want to fight him anymore.

"Please, Logan. Just let it go." Jean’s voice was barely above a whisper.

Trembling.

Distant.

She turned her face away, her eyes slipping to the corner of the room... as if looking at him, really looking at him, was more painful than everything she’d been through.

And in that moment... Logan felt something inside him shatter.

She was pushing him away again.

Just like she had years ago, when she looked at him with those same guarded eyes... only this time, there was pain where there had once been disgust. And it hurt more than any slap or insult she could have given.

She didn’t want him.

Not his protection. Not his rage. Not even his care.

He stood there for a moment longer, trying to fight the ache creeping up his throat. Hoping... desperately... that she would turn around. That she would stop him. Say anything. Give him a reason to stay.

But she didn’t.

The silence between them was deafening.

Logan stepped back, slowly letting go of the hope he’d held on to so tightly. Then, without another word, he turned and walked out.