The Ruthless CEO's Revenge Wife
Chapter 64: The Man in the Shadows

Chapter 64: The Man in the Shadows

Jean sat before her vanity mirror, the makeup brush trembling slightly in her fingers as she applied a soft layer of concealer beneath her eyes. No amount of foundation could hide the tiredness she wore like a second skin.

Last night’s nightmare had shaken something loose inside her... something old and buried. It had taken everything in her not to curl up and stay in bed.

But she had a life to maintain. A reputation to uphold. And questions that needed answers.

Pulling her hair into a clean ponytail, she grabbed her bag and headed downstairs, expecting the usual sharp voices of her parents at the breakfast table. But the dining room was empty.

Frowning, she turned to one of the housemaids clearing the table. "Where is everyone?"

The woman paused, respectful as always. "Mr. and Mrs. Adams asked for breakfast in bed today, Miss Jean. And Mr. Alex hasn’t returned since last night."

Jean’s brow arched slightly. Breakfast in bed? Since when? But she nodded. "Thanks."

A small part of her was relieved. No fake smiles. No forced conversation. Just silence.

She ate slowly, her appetite half-hearted. Still haunted by fragments of the dream... Tyler’s voice echoing, the pain, the helplessness.

On her way to the office, the city blurring past her car window, she suddenly craved something sweet... something that could at least trick her brain into feeling better.

"Stop at the corner cafe," she instructed her driver. "I want a smoothie."

The familiar smell of roasted coffee beans and fruit pulp greeted her warmly. Jean stepped into the café and ordered her usual for cravings... a strawberry smoothie with a dash of vanilla and no ice.

That’s when she noticed it.

A black car. Windows tinted darker than regulation, idling just beyond the cafe’s glass front. Parked squarely in the "No Parking" zone.

She glanced at it briefly, her instincts alerting her for a flicker of a second... but she brushed it off. Probably just someone too rich to care about the rules.

She paid for her drink, the cold smoothie giving her some much-needed comfort, and left the café. The car hadn’t moved.

She didn’t look back.

But behind those blacked-out windows... someone was watching.

___________________________

Inside the black car, Tyler Dominic sat with a quiet stillness that made his driver uneasy. The engine purred in neutral, the AC humming low, but neither sound disturbed the cold silence radiating from the man in the back seat.

He watched Jean Adams through the tinted window as she walked out of the cafe, smoothie in hand, oblivious to the eyes locked on her every move.

She hadn’t changed. Not really.

Tyler Dominic sat still. One hand rested on the leather seat, the other curled into a fist beneath his chin. His cold eyes never left the figure across the street.

Jean.

She was at the café window, ordering her smoothie like nothing in the world was wrong. Like she wasn’t being watched. Like he wasn’t there.

She always had that same little smile when she ordered strawberry shake like a child pretending the world was still sweet. Tyler leaned slightly forward, savoring the sight.

She still wore her hair in the same loose waves, the way he liked it. Still carried herself like she wasn’t hunted.

But she was. And she didn’t even know it.

He followed her car all the way to her office, careful to stay three vehicles behind. He knew her routine.

The security team didn’t concern him. Not when he knew which side doors she used and what time Emma took her meetings.

By the time she reached her office, his car had disappeared... but he hadn’t.

From across the street, he stood near a newsstand, blending into the crowd with practiced ease. His eyes never left the top floor of the glass building where Jean worked. A faint smirk tugged at his lips when he saw her silhouette pass behind the window. "Still predictable, Jean," he muttered.

But it had all started earlier that day... before the cafe, before the office.

Before dawn.

He had been parked just outside the Adams estate.

He’d arrived long before she woke up.

And from his viewing point... he had a clear line of sight through her bedroom window. She never closed the curtains properly. That was her mistake.

And he’d seen her sit up abruptly in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat. A nightmare, perhaps?

He didn’t care. He relished it.

Watching her cry gave him the same pleasure her screams once did. She may have forgotten what it felt like to be helpless but he hadn’t forgotten what it felt like to own her silence.

Tyler smiled to himself as he adjusted his watch and leaned back in his seat. She didn’t know he was back in the country. She didn’t know the deal had broken.

And now, piece by piece, he’d remind her.

_______________________________

That evening, Jean sat on the edge of her bed, towel wrapped loosely around her damp hair. She’d just stepped out of the shower, trying to wash off the fatigue clinging to her after a long day at the office. But something still lingered... something she couldn’t scrub away.

It wasn’t the tiredness.

It was the feeling of being watched.

She stared at the window across the room. The curtains were shut now... but were they shut this morning?

A chill crawled down her spine. Slowly, she stood and walked over, pulling the heavy fabric tighter. Her reflection stared back at her in the faint glass... wary, tense, unraveling.

She turned away, trying to dismiss the thought, but then remembered something else.

The car.

That black-tinted car from the cafe. It felt wrong. Not just because it was parked illegally. But because it lingered.

She couldn’t even see the driver’s silhouette. And now that she thought about it... it had followed behind her car for a while. She’d lost sight of it near a traffic light.

Coincidence?

She told herself yes.

But her gut told her no.

Jean reached for her phone, fingers hovering over the screen. Call someone? Emma? The police? But what would she even say? "I feel like I’m being watched"? It sounded ridiculous.

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