The Ruthless CEO's Revenge Wife-Chapter 202: The Trust In Each Other

The knock on Jean’s door wasn’t loud... just a quiet tap-tap, barely enough to draw her attention from the file she wasn’t really reading.

She didn’t answer. She already knows it’s him.

But the door opened anyway.

Logan.

He entered slowly, not in his usual crisp, commanding way but careful, deliberate. As if gauging her temperature before crossing a line.

In his hand, a leather folder. Thin, black, and neatly pressed. Jean leaned back in her chair. Eyes narrowing. "That better not be another surprise."

Logan didn’t flinch. "Depends how you define surprise."

He walked over to the table, placed the folder down between them with the same reverence one might use for a loaded weapon.

"What is it?" she asked flatly.

"The real version. Emergency spousal authority. Signed by me. Blank for you."

Jean didn’t touch it.

She just stared at it, at the way the corners lined up perfectly on her polished desk. At how Logan stood on the other side, calm and unreadable.

Then she looked up. "You lied in front of everyone, you weren’t hesitating then. But why do I hear hesitation in your voice now?"

He didn’t deny it.

"You forged my signature and told the board I approved."

Still nothing.

"That wasn’t your call to make, Logan."

Finally, he spoke, his voice low and level. "I know."

Silence crackled in the air like distant thunder. Jean slowly stood, her fingers brushing the top of the folder but not opening it.

"Why are you giving me this now?" she asked. "To make it right?"

Logan’s jaw flexed. "To make it official. So if it ever comes up again, no one questions your position or mine."

She folded her arms. "You’re not the CEO, Logan. I am. You should have discussed this with me!"

His gaze didn’t shift. "And I don’t want your job."

"Then why go through all this trouble? Why step in at all?" She wasn’t yelling. Her voice was controlled... too controlled. The kind of calm that comes right before breaking.

Logan looked at her for a long time.

And then, softly explained. "Because they were ready to take everything from you. And you weren’t even conscious to stop them."

Jean’s throat tightened.

He took a slow step forward.

"Do you know what it felt like, standing in that room with them throwing around words like ’incapable’ and ’unstable’? You gave everything to that company... built it when no one believed in you. And they wanted to strip it from you because you passed out once."

Jean swallowed hard.

"That still doesn’t explain why you. Why did you go so far as to fake my consent."

Logan’s next words were quieter. Almost... tender.

"Because I couldn’t stand by and watch it happen. Not to you."

Jean blinked.

"But we’re not... this marriage, it’s not even real." Her voice wavered despite herself. "You didn’t have to go that far. You could’ve just let it happen."

A beat.

Then his voice, rougher this time. "That’s exactly the point, Jean."

He stepped around the table, now standing directly in front of her.

"This might’ve started as a contract. But I’ll be damned if I stand by while vultures gut the woman I have married to..."

He stopped himself.

Too late.

Jean’s heart stuttered in her chest.

Logan reached for the folder. Opened it. Turned it toward her.

"You don’t have to sign it," he said quietly. "But if you do... it won’t just be legal protection." Their eyes met. "It’ll be trust. Yours in me."

___________________________

The room felt heavier than before.

Like the air itself was waiting for her response.

Jean stared at the open folder, the pen resting neatly beside her name. Blank. Waiting. And yet the weight of it pressed down like something irreversible.

Logan didn’t speak.

He stood still, watching her with that maddening calm of his. The kind of quiet that never begged... only waited.

Jean picked up the pen.

She signed. The damage was already done. No need to cry over spilled milk.

One stroke. Then another. Her name, neatly sealed under the terms Logan had offered.

Then she shut the folder and looked up... eyes sharp, chin lifted.

"This contract is valid only until the date of our marriage contract’s expiration."

Her voice didn’t waver. Not even a little.

Logan’s jaw tightened, just briefly.

"Understood," he said, the barest shift in his voice betraying something deeper.

Jean stepped back, as if distancing herself from the entire moment.

"I won’t be humiliated in front of the board again," she added. "If you ever act without my consent a second time..."

"I won’t."

The interruption was soft. Steady. Almost... regretful.

She nodded once.

Then turned away from him. freewёbn૦νeɭ.com

But Logan? He stayed still, his eyes on her, lingering like he wanted to say more but knew better.

The silence between them wasn’t bitter.

Just unfinished.

_____________________________

The study room was dark.

Only the city lights filtered through the tall windows, casting faint silver streaks over the furniture. Logan stood by the shelf, a glass of untouched whiskey in his hand, staring blankly at the flames flickering inside the unused fireplace.

The folder with Jean’s signature sat on his desk.

Neat. Clean. And Legal.

Finally, he could be there for her when she needs it.

He should’ve felt satisfied.

It had gone according to plan... her trust secured, the board silenced, the power in his hands, if only temporarily.

But all Logan could feel... was conflicted.

He set the glass down, untouched. Ran a hand through his hair, dragging it back. "What the hell am I doing..." he muttered under his breath.

This wasn’t what he wanted.

It never was.

Back in university, Jean had been everything he could never have. Not just beautiful... untouchable. Powerful. Brilliant. And cruel, in the way only someone with walls higher than her pride could be. Her rejection had carved something ugly into him.

It wasn’t just that she said no.

It was that she looked at him like he wasn’t even a man. Just some pathetic charity case that didn’t deserve her attention.

He had told himself he’d make her regret it one day.