The Ruthless CEO's Revenge Wife
Chapter 148: The Bidding Ceremony (Their Arrival)

Chapter 148: The Bidding Ceremony (Their Arrival)

Logan didn’t hesitate.

He nodded once and slipped under the blanket beside her, careful not to touch unless she asked for it. He just laid there... watching her.

Jean turned toward him, her head resting near his chest. She didn’t say anything more. She didn’t need to.

And when Logan wrapped an arm gently around her shoulders, she didn’t flinch this time.

She exhaled.

Safe.

Not healed, not yet. But for the first time in years, she allowed herself to be held.

And Logan held her like she was glass... fragile but precious.

That night, there were no fireworks. No passion. No heat.

Just two broken people, holding on to each other in the quiet darkness.

And somehow, that meant more.

____________________________

The first rays of sunlight filtered in through the sheer curtains, casting soft golden patterns across the room. But inside the bedroom, time felt like it had slowed to a crawl.

Logan hadn’t slept.

His back ached slightly from staying in the same position all night, but he hadn’t dared move. Not when she had finally, finally trusted him enough to let herself rest in his arms.

Jean’s head was tucked into the crook of his neck, her breath slow and steady, warm against his collarbone. Her hand clutched the front of his t-shirt like a lifeline, as if letting go meant falling back into her own nightmares.

And Logan... had never felt more helpless.

His eyes had remained open for most of the night, staring at the ceiling, his thoughts running like a silent storm behind his calm expression.

He knew something was broken inside her.

But last night confirmed it... whatever had happened to her, whatever she had endured... it was enough to make her body freeze under his touch. To make her recoil from something she had wanted moments before.

And yet... she had asked him to stay.

Not out of obligation. Not because of the contract. But because at that moment, she needed him.

That should’ve felt like a victory. But all he felt was grief... for the girl who still couldn’t close her eyes without bracing herself.

He brushed a few strands of hair from her forehead and leaned in to press a gentle kiss to the crown of her head. Her skin was no longer clammy with panic. Just warm.

He closed his eyes and let out a slow breath.

If he could carry her pain, he would.

If he could go back in time and strangle every monster that ever touched her, he wouldn’t hesitate.

But all he could do now... was be the man she could lean on. Quietly. Steadily. Without expectation.

The soft creak of the hallway floorboards signaled the staff may have arrived... But Logan didn’t move. Didn’t call out.

He wasn’t ready to let go of this fragile moment.

"Logan..." came a sleepy whisper.

His eyes snapped open.

Jean blinked up at him, her voice hoarse, her lashes still damp from the night before.

"You stayed?"

He nodded once, offering her a faint smile.

The sun had fully risen, drenching the elegant dining space with sunlight. The staff moved quietly in the background, laying out fresh juice, toasted bread, scrambled eggs, and warm croissants.

Logan and Jean walked into the room together.

Not holding hands. Not clinging. But... there was a softness to their movements. A slowness in their steps. An invisible thread between them.

Jean’s cheeks were faintly pink. Logan’s shirt was wrinkled from sleeping in it.

But then found Hannah and Emma sitting at the table already chomping on food. "What are they doing here so early?" Logan asked Jean.

"I don’t know myself either."

Seated at the table already, Hannah looked up mid-bite... then immediately blinked in suspicion.

Emma, sipping her coffee, arched her brow.

"Well, well," Emma said with an exaggerated smile, "the newlyweds finally made it down. We were beginning to think you two decided to skip breakfast... and each other."

"Care to tell us why you invaded our house so early in the morning." Jean rolled her eyes and moved to sit, hiding her flustered expression behind the mug of coffee a staff member placed in front of her. "We just woke up late."

"Mhm," Hannah chimed in, grinning. "Woke up late or... stayed up late?"

Jean almost choked on her coffee.

Logan calmly buttered his croissant like he hadn’t heard a thing.

Emma burst into laughter. "Oh my god, look at her face!"

"Hannah, shut up," Jean mumbled, trying to stay cool, but the heat on her face betrayed her.

"You’re blushing," Hannah said, practically squealing now.

"You’re imagining things," Jean muttered, glaring at her plate. "Nothing happened."

Hannah raised a single brow. "Right. Just like ’nothing’ happened in the kitchen that night when I accidentally walked in."

Logan gave a soft cough but said nothing, lifting his cup to his lips with amused indifference.

"You need to install a bell around your neck," he murmured, barely audible, eyes flicking toward his sister.

"I heard that!" Hannah huffed, pointing her fork at him. "Not my fault you two keep acting like a married couple in a K-drama."

Emma, still grinning, added, "Well, at least they’re acting now. I remember not long ago, Jean couldn’t even look Logan in the eye."

Jean nudged her foot under the table at Emma, who let out a yelp.

Logan glanced sideways at Jean and caught the smallest smile tugging at her lips... she was trying to hide it, but failed.

And for the first time in days, he allowed himself to truly relax.

The tension hadn’t disappeared.

But something had changed.

Something was healing.

Even if it was just a small crack of light... it was there.

___________________________

After the playful breakfast chaos, Logan remained seated on the couch with his phone in hand. Jean had disappeared to get ready for the day, but her lingering presence still weighed in the air like the scent of jasmine she often wore.

Emma walked in with a folder in hand, flipping through documents for the upcoming bidding event. "I’ve finalized the presentations for your meeting, and I’ve arranged a car for just the two of us."

Logan looked up slowly, his voice steady. "Change of plans."

Emma blinked. "Change of...?"

"Jean’s coming with us."

The words hit the air like a cold splash.

Emma’s brow furrowed. "Logan... are you sure that’s a good idea? She’s still recovering."

"I’m sure," he said, not missing a beat. "And she made her case. She wants to go. I won’t stop her."

Emma didn’t respond immediately. She glanced at the hallway, where Jean’s soft laughter with Hannah echoed faintly from her room.

With a sigh, Emma lowered the folder. "Alright. If she wants to go, I won’t argue. But I’ll make sure the jet is ready and a medic is on standby just in case. She might act strong, but..."

"She is strong," Logan said quietly.

Emma paused, caught off guard by the tenderness in his voice. She nodded once. "I’ll get everything arranged."

___________________________

The black Kingsley SUV pulled up to the hangar, sleek against the golden afternoon light. The massive private jet, lined with silver accents and the Kingsley insignia on its tail, awaited its passengers.

Jean stepped out first, dressed in a fitted navy blazer, pencil skirt, and low heels... elegant yet understated. Her hair was tied back in a low ponytail, the bandages on her arms hidden beneath her sleeves.

Logan followed close behind, buttoning his black coat as his eyes swept over her. She looked like she belonged in this world... in control, poised, untouchable. But he knew better.

Emma and Hannah descended from the other car, suitcases already being loaded.

"Whoa," Hannah whispered to Jean as they ascended the jet steps. "This is the real VIP life."

Jean smirked. "Don’t act like you haven’t been on it before. Did your brother never gave you a ride in his private jet?"

"Still," Hannah whispered, nudging her, "this feels different. It’s like... a power couple road trip but make it luxury."

Logan, overhearing them, chuckled faintly and shook his head.

Once inside, they all settled into plush leather seats. A flight attendant offered drinks. Jean took sparkling water. Logan? A whiskey on the rocks, though he barely sipped it... his eyes on her the entire time.

She met his gaze across the aisle, her lips curling just slightly.

He knew she was doing this not just for herself, but for them. For whatever strange, complicated thing that had begun to form between them.

And for now, that was enough.

______________________________

The venue was nothing short of opulent... crystal chandeliers dripping gold, red velvet carpets underfoot, and a gathering of the city’s most ruthless businessmen in custom-tailored suits. The bidding ceremony was not just about real estate; it was a battlefield for power, dominance, and reputation.

Just outside, a sleek black Rolls Royce with tinted windows pulled up to the grand entrance. All eyes turned.

The chauffeur opened the door and out stepped Logan Kingsley, dashing in a charcoal-gray three-piece suit, every inch of him reeking power and precision. His wrist bore a Kingsley Signature timepiece, and his expression was unreadable... calm, but deadly.

Then came Jean.

She stepped out after him, dressed in an emerald-green off-shoulder satin dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. Her hair was styled in soft waves, her lips a rich shade of wine. Even with the faintest trace of bandages hidden beneath her sheer shawl, she looked poised, untouchable, and utterly captivating.

A collective hush fell among the crowd.

Logan extended his hand toward her, and she placed hers in his. They ascended the steps together, step by step, perfectly synchronized... Jean’s heels clicking like a rhythm of war drums, Logan’s gaze fixed ahead.

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