Love Rents A Room
Chapter 193: His Bold Plan

Chapter 193: His Bold Plan

No.

Now that Joanne really looked back, Jeffrey hadn’t been protecting Heather the past year.

He had handed Heather power she was never meant to wield. Not because he believed in her, but because he knew she’d implode. She was reckless, impulsive, incapable of heeding the counsel of anyone but herself.

And in less than a year, she had turned a powerful company into a disaster.

Joanne could almost see it now: Heather had walked right into a trap of her own making, and Jeffrey had simply... let her. The wolves were already circling. Her fall was inevitable.

Jeffrey hadn’t shielded Heather. Because if he had, Heather’s name wouldn’t be on the papers associated with failures.

That only meant that Jeffrey had used her.

Strategically.

Ruthlessly.

And all along, he had stood by Joanne.

Not perfectly, no. But consistently. Steadily. Fiercely.

He had changed. He had grown.

And when Joanne looked at him now... still on his knees, still clutching her hand like it was his only tether to the world, she realized something else.

She had grown too.

She wasn’t that lonely girl anymore, desperate for scraps of affection. She was a woman who had been through fire and survived.

She didn’t need Jeffrey. No, she didn’t.

But she wanted him.

Still.

Even after everything.

And maybe that mattered more.

Joanne leaned back against the headboard, her robe slipping farther down her shoulders. Jeffrey, still holding her hand, lowered himself until his ear pressed gently against her bare chest—where her heartbeat thudded steady and warm, the only rhythm that had ever grounded him.

She hadn’t given him an answer yet. But he had made his decision. If it meant losing all pride, if it meant begging on his knees, then so be it. He wasn’t going to leave without her. Without her, there was no life to return to.

Her hand came to rest softly on his head, fingers weaving through his hair. The warmth of his breath brushed against her exposed skin, tender and intimate.

"How’s your daughter?" she asked quietly. It struck her—how strange it was that he hadn’t mentioned the child even once.

She felt it—his breath hitched, his body momentarily stiffening. Then, without speaking, he wrapped his arm around her waist and nestled closer, adjusting his face until it rested between the curves of her chest. Close. Familiar. As if this was where he’d always belonged.

In the silence of the dark room, only their breaths moved the air.

"Did you really tell Heather to give me full custody? That you’d raise her with me?" she asked.

Joanne hummed in response, but the question lingered. A beat passed. Then a soft gust of warm breath danced along her neck—maybe a laugh, maybe a scoff. She couldn’t tell.

"That girl’s not mine," Jeffrey said, his voice low and certain. He wasn’t lying—there was relief in his tone. When Lady Elsa had relayed what Joanne said that day, he hadn’t been surprised. Only ashamed. Ashamed he’d ever doubted Joanne. Ashamed he let himself be pulled into such a cruel deception.

Joanne was flawless in moments like those—so steady, even when the world around her crumbled. Angelic. That was the word. No matter how hard he searched, there was no better one.

"She’s not Heather’s either," he added softly.

Joanne went still. So the hunch she had that day had been right all along. Heather hadn’t carried that child.

"You figured it out that day, didn’t you?" he asked, exhaling slowly. She could feel the smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"See?" he murmured. "This is why I need you. I’m an idiot. I believed her. I actually thought the girl was mine. Turns out, Heather was twisted enough to buy a child with green eyes to sell the lie..."

"Buy?" Joanne’s fingers froze mid-stroke through his hair.

Jeffrey let out a long breath. Heather had found the child of a woman addicted to pills—offered money, and took the baby. Just like that. It made his stomach churn, even thinking about it.

If it had been Joanne... no, Joanne would’ve found a way to protect the baby. To find her a home. A real one.

"She’s with her real father now," he said quietly. "Safe."

Joanne let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding.

Relief.

Not just for the baby.

But maybe, just maybe... for him, too.

"I’m learning from you, Jo..." Jeffrey added.

Joanne said nothing. Jeffrey felt her breath easing. It was subtle, but in that quiet, tender dark, it was as loud as forgiveness.

She had listened. Again.

He didn’t move. He didn’t speak. Just pressed his face against her chest, grounding himself in the steady beat of her heart, her hand still in his hair, fingers warm and slow and forgiving. That small mercy she kept giving him even when she didn’t say the words.

"I asked myself what you’d do," he murmured back, his lips brushing against her skin. "I’ve been doing that a lot lately."

Joanne didn’t answer that. Her hand kept moving gently through his hair, and he took that as her answer.

It wasn’t an absolution.

But it was something.

Her trust, once broken, couldn’t be won back in a single night, not even in a night like this—raw and trembling and bare.

But her heart was still open.

And for Jeffrey, that was everything.

"You’re bringing Heather down," Joanne said, her voice quiet but clear.

She just wanted to hear him say it—wanted to hear it in his voice, that assurance, that claim. Call it pride or instinct, but something in her needed to hear her man speak those words about her rival.

"I am," Jeffrey answered, then paused. He shifted, his breath brushing against her lips even in the darkness. "And... I’m bringing Imperium Logistics down with her."

"What?" Joanne bolted upright, her eyes wide even in the dark.

Jeffrey laughed. That low, husky chuckle—the one that always sent a jolt through her abdomen. "True," he said, almost lazily. "They’re our biggest competitor. They tried to take over your company."

That last sentence carried steel. She could feel the anger simmering beneath his voice, could imagine the sharp glint in his eyes even though she couldn’t see them. Predator’s eyes. Focused. Fierce.

"I want to live peacefully with you..." he murmured, gently guiding her back against the pillows. His body followed, warm and firm as he settled over her again. One hand drifted to the lapel of her robe, his fingertips brushing softly over her skin as he slid the fabric aside.

Joanne barely noticed the motion. Her mind was still reeling from his words.

Did he mean it? That he wanted to live with her in Rockchapel? Run both companies together, side by side? That he was eliminating their enemies so they could finally have peace, build a life, raise a family?

Her heart fluttered. It was foolish—maybe—but she let it.