The Ruthless CEO's Revenge Wife
Chapter 76: Spending The Night Together

Chapter 76: Spending The Night Together

"I won’t tell you anything until you marry me."

Logan exhaled through his nose, jaw clenching harder as he stepped back in frustration. "Jesus, Jean," he muttered. "You’re acting like a broken record."

But even as he said it, something inside him twisted.

Because this... whatever this was... it wasn’t just stubbornness. It was fear. The kind that makes a woman walk barefoot and bleeding into the lion’s den, just to escape something worse.

And despite everything....his plans, his grudges... he couldn’t look away from her.

"Fine," he muttered under his breath, pacing. "You want to be Mrs. Kingsley so badly? Let’s see just how far you’re willing to go."

Logan grabbed her wrist with a firm grip and stormed out of the office, dragging her behind him. Jean struggled, trying to pull away, her fists pounding lightly against his arm.

"Let me go!" she snapped, but he didn’t stop.

Her legs stumbled to keep up, but her body couldn’t take any more. Pain surged up from the soles of her wounded feet and without warning, she collapsed.

Logan stopped instantly. His brows pulled together in shock and worry as he looked down at her crumpled form.

"Jean!"

She winced, clutching her ankle. "I told you," he muttered, crouching beside her. "You need a doctor. But you’re too stubborn to listen."

"No hospital," she rasped. "Please... I can’t go to a hospital. Too many eyes. I don’t want anyone to see me like this."

His stare hardened, but there was a flicker of something else underneath... concern, confusion.

He let out a laugh, bitter and cold. "Even now, you care about your image and reputation?" he said, his voice laced with disbelief. "You sure ’daddy’s little girl’ won’t get in trouble in front of the media after marrying me?"

Jean flinched but said nothing.

It wasn’t for reputation. It was for survival. She can’t risk being seen by anyone who could be Tyler’s informer.

But she couldn’t tell him that.

"I’m not leaving," she said hoarsely. "And that’s final."

Logan’s patience snapped. Without another word, he scooped her up in his arms, carrying her bridal style as if she weighed nothing. Jean gasped, her breath catching in her throat. His body was warm, too warm. Unintentionally, she found herself leaning slightly into him.

"Logan," she protested, "I told you, I don’t want to leave..."

He stepped into the elevator. The doors slid open as if waiting for his command. As they closed behind them, he looked down at her.

"You don’t get to decide that, Adams," he said, eyes sharp and unrelenting. "This is my territory."

She squirmed in his arms, but his grip remained solid.

"Where are you taking me?" she demanded.

His gaze slid to her lips before slowly meeting her eyes again. His voice was low, deliberate.

"My home," he said. "We’re spending the night together."

Jean’s heart pounded in her chest. His words echoed in her head... "We’re spending the night together." The way he said it, so calm, so final... it made her stomach twist.

She tried to push against his chest, her voice rising in panic. "Put me down, Logan! I knew it! You’re taking advantage of this... of me!"

His jaw clenched. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I mean!" she hissed. "Dragging me out of your office, carrying me like this, talking about spending the night... What else am I supposed to think? You’ve always hated me. And now suddenly you want to play the hero?"

Logan’s eyes darkened, and his steps slowed as the elevator began to descend. He looked at her, a flicker of genuine hurt behind the storm in his gaze.

"You think I’d do that?" he asked, voice deadly quiet. "You think I’d touch you while you’re like this... injured and half broken?"

She glared at him, breathing heavily. "Why else would you insist I go to your home?"

His grip tightened ever so slightly around her as his voice dropped, low and dangerous.

"I suggest you shut that mouth, Adams," he said, each word deliberate. "Before I make sure everything you’re imagining actually happens."

Her breath hitched.

She didn’t expect that.

Logan looked forward again, jaw tight, chest rising and falling heavily.

"I’m not your enemy right now," he muttered. "But keep pushing me, and I might become one."

The silence in the elevator was suffocating.

Jean turned her head away, biting the inside of her cheek. Her wounded pride wanted to throw another insult.

But the truth was... she was scared. Not of Logan, but of how helpless she felt. And how dangerously safe his arms felt even now.

When the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, Logan didn’t say another word. He simply stepped out, holding her like a burden he never asked for, yet refused to drop.

______________________________

The back exit of Kingsley Corporation slammed shut behind him as Logan strode out into the dimly lit night, Jean in his arms like a fragile doll clinging to consciousness.

The quiet murmurs of security guards stationed near the rear doors halted. Eyes widened. Mouths parted. One of them even dropped his coffee cup.

Logan didn’t spare them a glance. He didn’t need to explain himself... not to anyone.

Jean, on the other hand, could feel the heat crawling up her face. Her hair clung to her temples, her dress stained with dried blood and dirt, barefoot and bruised. Never in her life had she felt so exposed. So humiliated.

And just as she thought the moment couldn’t get any worse, the sky cracked above them. Thunder roared through the city like a beast waking from slumber.

She flinched and instinctively tightened her arms around Logan’s neck, burying her face into his shoulder.

He laughed... a low, amused sound from deep in his chest.

"Scared of a little lightning," he murmured, "when you’re the one who brought this storm crashing through my life?"

Jean pulled back just enough to glare at him, eyes narrowed, cheeks flushed with indignation. "You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?"

He smirked but said nothing, carrying her across the lot until they reached his black car. Rain began to dot the pavement, soft at first, then heavier.

Once at the car, Logan gently lowered her down, letting her balance herself. But the second her feet touched the ground, she spun on her heel, ready to bolt.

"Adams..." he growled.

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