Love Rents A Room
Chapter 101: No More Missed Opportunities

Chapter 101: No More Missed Opportunities

Joanne offered a grateful smile to the nurses who had come to her aid against the agent. They merely waved it off. She might have been a handful with the call button earlier, but she was still one of their own. After all, the entire rehabilitation center in their hospital existed because of her contributions. Joanne Smith wasn’t just a patient—she was a VIP.

Wasting no time, Joanne dived into the security footage, her fingers tapping furiously on the screen. Her heart pounded. Charlotte hadn’t shown up at her house—not even once that afternoon.

A cold dread crept up her spine. What if Caruso had gotten to her? What if something horrible had happened to that poor girl? What if she had been kidnapped on her way?

Her pulse thrummed with rising panic as she scoured every angle of footage, desperate for a sign of Charlotte.

Meanwhile, Jeffrey leaned back, his jaw tightening as he watched Joanne’s frantic search. His mind drifted to the agent from earlier, the way he had tried to force Joanne down the hall without explanation. Something was off.

He had already begun looking into the attacks on Joanne’s logistics company, and now the feds were targeting her? The timing was too convenient.

Jeffrey knew Philip Winchester could make this problem disappear with a single call. That was the kind of power he wielded—effortless, absolute. And for Joanne, he would use it without hesitation.

The real issue was Joanne herself. She was stubborn, independent, and fiercely protective of her own battles. Would she accept his grandfather’s help?

Jeffrey exhaled sharply. He didn’t care. She might not want it, but she needed it. He’d talk to his grandfather.

A sharp knock at the door interrupted the tense silence. The doctor stepped inside, his face unreadable.

"The agent received a phone call and left," he informed them.

Jeffrey’s brows knitted together. His instincts sharpened. Had his grandfather already intervened?

Beside him, Joanne barely reacted, still scrolling through security footage, her focus unwavering.

Then, another knock. This time, a man in a delivery uniform entered, holding a large envelope. "You are served, Ms. Joanne Smith."

Jeffrey’s stomach clenched. A legal notice? Here? In the hospital?

Joanne, without looking up, extended her hand. She took the envelope without hesitation, her expression calm, almost indifferent. Even the delivery man hesitated for a second, as if expecting shock, anger—anything. But she simply handed the envelope to Jeffrey.

"See what this is about, please," she murmured, eyes still scanning the footage.

Jeffrey’s fingers tightened around the envelope. The weight of her trust pressed against his heart. She was letting him in—letting him carry something personal, something that mattered. She needed someone to stand by her, to share her burdens. And she had chosen him.

He carefully opened the envelope and scanned the document inside. His jaw clenched.

"It’s... Sam Smith," he said, his voice thick with distaste. "He’s filing for a share of your inheritance. He claims your grandfather didn’t intend for you to have everything."

At that, Joanne finally paused. A flicker of something—disappointment, maybe even hurt—crossed her face before she buried it beneath composure.

"He wasn’t this eager four years ago," she said, her tone light, almost mocking, but Jeffrey could hear the undercurrent of bitterness.

Four years ago, when the estate was drowning in debt, when she could barely scrape together the money for her grandfather’s funeral, her so-called family had vanished. Her aunt, her cousins—they all kept their distance, pretending they didn’t know her, afraid she might ask them for help.

And now?

"Jo..." Jeffrey moved closer, gently taking her hand.

She turned to him with a small, practiced smile—the kind that barely reached her eyes. "I’m fine, really," she said, exhaling. "I knew this would happen the moment he started talking to Brian Cooper."

Jeffrey’s grip on her hand tightened. Brian Cooper. Of course. That snake had his fingerprints all over this. Sam was too much of an idiot to orchestrate something like this alone. Someone had to be pulling the strings.

Jeffrey exhaled slowly, forcing himself to stay calm.

This was Joanne—rising, again and again, above betrayal, disappointment, and greed.

His heart ached. Four years ago... That was when she needed someone the most.

He should have been there. He should have held her hand then, just as he was holding it now.

But he was here now. And he wasn’t going anywhere.

Jeffrey refused to waste another second regretting missed opportunities. He had found his path—the one that led straight to her—and he would follow it through.

"Ah... she’s here..."

Joanne’s voice sharpened with urgency as she nearly jumped off the bed. A sharp twinge of pain shot through her, forcing her to clutch her chest for a moment. But she didn’t care. She pushed through it, rushing toward the door.

Jeffrey followed, his gaze locked onto her determined form.

She was incredible.

As he walked a step behind her, an unsettling thought crept into his mind. Would he ever be able to walk beside her as an equal? Right now, he knew he was still lacking—still far from the man he needed to be.

But he would get there.

On the way home, Joanne made a quick call to Philip Winchester. She had already checked her home security cameras—he wasn’t there, but two of his bodyguards were. With night falling, she didn’t want Charlotte alone any longer. The girl had sneaked into the basement of Joanne’s house earlier, slipping in from the back.

By now, she was probably exhausted, terrified, and hungry after crying herself into a stupor. Poor girl.

Joanne reached out to Sebastian for the bodyguards’ contact information. Of course, he had it. Sebastian handled Philip’s calls more often than not. Philip rarely answered his mobile himself—unless it was his landline. He was weird like that. Weird, but in a strangely endearing way.

By the time Joanne arrived home, Charlotte was already inside, curled up on the couch. She had been fed leftovers and was now holding a large glass of warm milk between her trembling hands. The bodyguards, despite their intimidating appearances, had taken care of her with surprising gentleness.

Joanne had already informed Jonathan. His voice cracked with relief when she told him. He promised to come and get Charlotte as soon as possible.

Stepping into the house, Joanne took a deep breath.

She needed to talk to Charlotte.

And she had a feeling this conversation was going to be an important one.

"Jo!"

The moment Charlotte spotted her, she leaped into Joanne’s arms, clinging to her desperately. Her small frame trembled against Joanne’s, her voice breaking with raw emotion.

"Where were you? I was waiting for you!"

Joanne held her tight, even as a sharp pain flared in her chest. But she didn’t care. She wasn’t letting go.

"I’m sorry, sweetheart... I’m here now," she murmured, pressing a soothing hand against the back of Charlotte’s head.

The girl’s fingers dug into Joanne’s shirt as sobs wracked her body. "Jo... Jo... Can I stay here? Please? I hate my dad... He hurt you, and I hate him. I don’t want to go back to him..."