The Ruthless CEO's Revenge Wife
Chapter 79: Jean’s Secret

Chapter 79: Jean’s Secret

Jean flushed crimson. "I... I didn’t eat..."

And then... Logan laughed.

It started as a small sound in his chest, but quickly grew into a deep, unrestrained laugh as he rolled off her and onto the other side of the couch, still chuckling.

"Well," he said between laughs, "glad to know your appetite’s still alive."

Jean covered her face. "Kill me now."

He smirked, sitting up and raking a hand through his hair. "Don’t tempt me."

Just then, the elevator gave a soft chime in the distance.

Logan stood. "Looks like Henry’s here... with warm clothes, and a doctor."

Jean groaned into the couch. "I’m never touching that stash again."

"Good," Logan called over his shoulder. "I’ll keep it hidden better next time."

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, revealing Henry in his usual sharp attire, holding a sleek garment bag and a warm expression. Beside him stood an older man with silvering hair and calm, observant eyes... Dr. Callen, Logan’s long-time family physician.

The moment they stepped inside, Henry’s casual greeting stalled mid-word as his gaze landed on the couch.

"Ms. Jean Adams?" he blurted out, stunned.

The doctor’s brows rose. "Jean Adams... as in Adams Empire Jean?"

Jean blinked, sitting stiffly with the cushions still slightly skewed around her. She crossed her arms, unimpressed. "Is that a problem?"

Henry wisely shut his mouth.

Dr. Callen, however, cleared his throat, composing himself. "Ah... not at all. I just... didn’t expect my patient to be entertaining such esteemed company."

Logan stood behind the couch, arms folded, giving the two men a silent look that said: Don’t ask.

But Jean’s expression hardened the moment Dr. Callen’s eyes swept over her more carefully. Her disheveled appearance. The bruises are half-covered by makeup. Her foot.

The doctor’s gentle tone shifted, quiet and clinical. "Mr. Kingsley, I’d like to examine her. In private."

Jean instantly stiffened. "No. I’m not going anywhere alone."

Logan stepped forward. "She stays here. You’ll get your privacy."

Without hesitation, he moved around the couch and scooped Jean back into his arms, causing all three to flinch in different ways... Henry raised his brows in disbelief, the doctor coughed nervously, and Jean let out a stunned gasp.

"Logan!" she protested, her fists lightly hitting his chest. "Put me down... I can walk!"

"You tried walking earlier, remember? Didn’t go so well," he reminded her, already striding down the hall.

Behind him, Henry muttered, "Didn’t think I’d live to see the day."

In a few strides, Logan reached the nearest bedroom, pushed the door open with his foot, and gently placed Jean on the bed. She immediately sat upright and pointed toward the hallway.

"Leave the door open."

Logan nodded once. "Done."

Dr. Callen stepped in, setting his bag on the edge of the bed. "Thank you. I’ll just... do a basic checkup for now. You can stay in view," he added to Logan, "just out of earshot."

As Logan retreated just beyond the doorway, leaning against the frame with a brooding expression, the doctor sat before Jean and offered a gentle smile. "Ms. Adams, this is strictly medical. But if there’s anything I need to know... anything you’re hiding... it could help me treat you properly."

Jean stared at him.

For a brief second, her mask cracked but only slightly.

"Just... don’t ask questions I’m not ready to answer," she whispered.

The doctor gave a soft nod. "Understood."

Outside the door, Logan folded his arms and stared at the wall... tense, quiet, and burning with a hundred questions he wasn’t allowed to ask.

While the doctor examined Jean, Logan took the opportunity to pull Henry aside. His voice was low, urgent.

"Call Jean’s assistant. Emma. Tell her to come here... tonight. If anyone can talk some damn sense into Jean, it’s her."

Henry nodded, already pulling out his phone. "You got it. Should I have security bring her in quietly?"

"No press, no noise. Use the service elevator. And Henry... be discreet. No names over the phone."

Henry gave a short nod and walked away to handle it.

Logan stayed in place, arms folded tightly, eyes flicking back toward the open bedroom door every few seconds. He hated the uncertainty. The helplessness.

________________________________

Dr. Callen gently rolled Jean’s leg back down after inspecting her bruised ankle.

"Sprained. Possibly from impact or twisting... you’ll need to rest your foot for at least a few days."

Jean gave a short nod.

But the doctor didn’t stop there. His gaze was cautious, professional... but probing.

"There are marks," he said slowly, "on your arms... a faint abrasion on your shoulder. Did you fall more than once? Or did someone hurt you?"

Jean stiffened.

He saw it. The way her jaw clenched.

"I need to know," he continued gently, "if there was a struggle. It affects how I treat you."

Jean’s voice was cold. "Just give me the medicine, Doctor. I didn’t ask for therapy."

Dr. Callen leaned back slightly, surprised by her icy tone. "I understand. But if there’s any threat to your safety..."

"There’s no threat," she snapped. "Just... do your job."

He paused, then nodded. "Very well. Painkillers, anti-inflammatories, and a topical ointment for the bruising. I’ll leave instructions."

_______________________________

A moment later, the doctor stepped out, closing the door softly behind him. Logan immediately pushed off the wall.

"Well?"

Dr. Callen rubbed the back of his neck. "Physically, she’ll recover. But Logan..."

His voice dipped.

"I’ve seen injuries like that before. Bruises that don’t match a simple fall. Her emotional reaction? That wasn’t just stubbornness. That was fear. A fear of getting caught."

Logan’s jaw tightened. "Get to the point."

The doctor met his eyes. "Was it you?"

The air between them grew heavy.

"No," Logan said without hesitation. His voice was quiet, controlled... but beneath the surface, there was something fierce. "I didn’t lay a single finger on her. Not like that."

The doctor studied him for a moment longer, then gave a subtle nod.

"I believe you," he said. "But someone did. If she won’t say who, then she’s still in danger."

Logan’s eyes flicked to the closed door.

"Yeah," he murmured. "I know."

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