The Ruthless CEO's Revenge Wife
Chapter 94: You’re Mine Jean

Chapter 94: You’re Mine Jean

Jean’s lips parted slightly as the memory returned like a slap.

Her voice. Her desperation. Her impulsive declaration.

She had said it. Last night, with blood still fresh on her lips and fire burning in her eyes, she had told him, "Marry me now, Logan. For one year, I’ll do anything you want me to do; I’ll be yours... completely."

The color drained from her face. She had genuinely forgotten those words.

Logan’s eyes caught the flicker of dread in hers. His lips curled slowly into a victorious smirk.

"Welcome to my world, my wife," he said softly, the weight of the title pressing heavily in the air, "Mrs. Kingsley."

__________________________

The black car moved smoothly through the city, but inside, the silence was thick and controlling.

Jean sat on the passenger side, her head leaning against the window, arms crossed, eyes half lidded... not out of comfort, but out of conflict. Her body still ached from the bruises Alex left, but it was nothing compared to the disquiet stirring inside her.

Logan hadn’t said a word since they left the hospital.

Not one.

Not until they pulled into the underground garage of a luxury high rise and the car stopped with a low purr.

Jean turned to him, confused. "This isn’t your penthouse...?"

Logan stepped out without answering, walking around the car. A moment later, her door opened and his hand extended.

She hesitated before placing her fingers into his.

"This," Logan said finally, leading her to the private elevator, "is my home. Not a bachelor penthouse for convenience. This is where I actually live."

The elevator ride was fast, too fast. Jean barely had time to process the shift in his tone... steadier now, colder... before they reached the top floor. The doors opened into a stunning modern space of charcoal, ivory, and glass. Sleek furniture, minimalist art, a panoramic skyline view that screamed wealth and power.

Jean took a small step inside. It was too quiet. Too sterile.

"You live alone?" she asked cautiously.

Logan shrugged off his blazer. "Obviously."

Jean sat on the velvet couch. The warm lighting of Logan’s penthouse contrasted the chill in her bones.

"Now that we’re married... it’s time to fulfill your end of the deal."

She turned around when she heard the sound of a drawer opening.

He pulled out a single white folder and dropped it on the table between them with a soft thud.

"What’s this?" she asked, though she already knew.

Logan gave a slow smile... sharp, unreadable.

"The real beginning of our deal."

Jean stared at the folder, then back at him. "You didn’t show this to me before the wedding."

"You were desperate," Logan said, voice like velvet wrapped steel. "I delivered your demand. I gave you my name. I married you. Now, I expect you to deliver yours."

Jean opened the folder slowly. Her eyes moved across the typed lines, and her heart sank with every clause.

Clause 3.2: The wife is to reside with the husband for the duration of one year.

Clause 5.1: The wife shall not engage in personal or romantic relationships outside this marriage during the contracted period.

Clause 6.3: Any attempts to annul, abandon, or escape this marriage will result in legal action and loss of remaining shareholding rights.

Clause 7.4: Absolute confidentiality is to be maintained about the marriage contract’s existence.

Clause 8.1: The wife will have to maintain all marital duties as expected of a marriage.

Clause 8.2: The wife will have to accept physical touch from the husband while in public and in private. Such gestures are meant to uphold the image of a genuine married couple before the board and society.

Clause 8.3: The wife will have to kiss the husband twice every day. It may differ whether in public or in private, that is the wife’s choice.

Clause 8.4: If in any case the wife does not feel comfortable with physical intimacy with the husband, the wife can use ’a safe word’ which will indicate the discomfort.

Clause 8.5: On weekends the husband and wife are expected to share the same bed, to explore a certain level of intimacy.

Clause 8.6: Failure to uphold the listed physical expectations without valid reason will result in an extension of the contract by one month per violation.

Her fingers hesitated before she lifted the cover... and then her heart sank.

Clause 8.1...

Clause 8.2...

Clause 8.3...

By the time she reached Clause 8.5, her lips parted slightly, a cold breath escaping.

"...You want me to share your bed every weekend?"

Her voice was low, but it shook. Logan didn’t flinch.

"That’s what married couples do, isn’t it?" he replied smoothly. "You’re lucky I didn’t ask for it every night."

Jean slammed the folder shut, her eyes now blazing. "This isn’t a marriage. It’s a contract. And you want me to treat it like some... honeymoon fantasy?"

Logan leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his gaze locking with hers. "No, Jean. I want you to remember this was your idea. You asked me to marry you. You said you’d give me anything I asked for, as long as you got that damn revenge marriage."

She stood up abruptly, pacing, flustered and furious. "I didn’t know you’d treat it like a... game of control!"

"And I didn’t know you’d beg me to marry you covered in your own blood," he shot back, his tone dark but not cruel.

The room fell into silence.

Jean clenched her fists. "You really want me to sign this?"

"I want you to understand what this means," he said, his voice lowering. "You’re mine for a year, Jean. You offered yourself to me. Now I’m taking what you promised."

She sat down slowly, her expression unreadable.

"...And if I say no?"

Logan’s eyes didn’t soften. "Then we dissolve this marriage. And you walk out that door as Jean Adams... alone, and without the revenge against your family you fought so hard for."

Jean stared down at the folder, her jaw tight.

She hated him.

She hated how he looked at her, how he challenged her, how he knew she’d have no choice.

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