Love Rents A Room
Chapter 199: Robert’s Plan

Chapter 199: Robert’s Plan

"Jo..." Jeffrey whispered as he reached her.

And then, without hesitation, he pulled her into his arms.

She was his everything. So what if she was pointing a gun at him? She was the woman who was carrying his child. He was the one who left her alone. She had every right to him.

Joanne’s body collapsed against him, her arms limp, the gun slipping from her fingers and clattering to the floor. She buried her face in his chest, breathing in the scent of him, the only thing that had ever felt like home.

And she broke.

Tears poured down her face, sobs wracking her frame. All the pain, rage, and helplessness poured out in waves.

"I’m here, Jo... I’m here," Jeffrey whispered, pressing kisses to her hair. "I’m sorry I left you alone. I’m sorry. I’m here now."

Robert picked up the fallen weapon, inspecting it with wide eyes. The safety wasn’t even on. He looked up sharply.

She could have. But she didn’t.

Jeffrey met Robert’s eyes and gave him a quiet, knowing smirk. She would never hurt me. Not even now. Not even like this. All she ever wants is me. Just me.

Robert passed him the gun, saying nothing.

Jeffrey holstered it calmly, then swept Joanne into his arms.

"I need soup brought to my room," he told the butler gently as he carried her upstairs.

No one stopped him.

No one dared.

-----

Robert leaned back into his seat, eyes following Jeffrey as he disappeared upstairs with Joanne in his arms. The room behind him had erupted into noise, voices overlapping like crashing waves.

"You’d let that nobody kill my son, but he can’t marry the woman he loves?" Nicole’s shrill voice rang out as she turned accusingly to Philip Winchester.

Robert sighed.

Was Nicole truly that blind? Did she not see that the so-called nobody was the woman her son actually loved and not Heather?

Across the room, Loreene, one of the younger cousins, flung her hands in the air. "How come Jeffrey can bring a woman to his room, but I’m not even allowed to have my boyfriend over?"

Really? Robert thought. That’s the battle she chooses right now?

With Philip maintaining his silence, everyone took the opportunity to air their grievances. It was a family free-for-all.

Normally, Robert would enjoy watching this kind of chaos unfold. The cracks in the polished façade of the Winchesters were always entertaining, especially when Jeffrey was involved. But not tonight. Not with what he’d just seen. Not with the stakes this high.

From the corner of his eye, he spotted Heather.

She was smiling.

Enjoying the scene, the chaos, the division.

And for someone who claimed to love Jeffrey and who would one day join this family, her delight was deeply unsettling.

Robert’s jaw clenched. For the first time, he truly doubted Heather’s place beside his cousin.

He’d heard whispers from credible sources that Heather had been in close contact with the CEO of Imperium Logistics, Winchester Logistics’ biggest rival. Too close. It was enough to raise suspicions. Enough to make him believe she might be working from the inside to bring them down.

He hadn’t said a word yet. He was waiting. Waiting for the right moment to prove to Philip that Jeffrey didn’t have the clarity to lead the family’s crown jewel. That he was blinded—by loyalty, by love, by Heather’s performance.

Let him stumble. Then Robert would act.

He didn’t care much for titles or affection, but he cared deeply about legacy. About power. He was already overseeing the family’s hotel and restaurant chains across the country and had recently pushed their expansion into Europe and Asia. But everyone in this room knew the truth:

Winchester Logistics was the heart of the empire, and the one who led it would inherit the lion’s share of the Winchester fortune.

Robert wanted that lion’s share.

To claim it, he had to play the long game. Let the pieces fall. Let Joanne disrupt the house of cards. Let Jeffrey stumble.

He sat back, watching everything unfold, quiet and calculating, just like he had grown up watching Philip do.

-----

Jeffrey placed Joanne gently on his bed—their bed, he dared to think. His chest tightened as he looked at her, disheveled and fragile, but undeniably his. His woman. The woman now carrying his child.

He sank beside her and took her hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss her knuckles, then her forehead. She was still crying, though her sobs had softened to silent tears.

A knock on the door broke the quiet, and he rose to answer it. The butler handed him a tray.

"Thank you," Jeffrey murmured, then quietly closed the door behind him.

Joanne watched him in silence, her eyes following the way he moved—the calm certainty in his actions. Maybe it was his steadiness that soothed her frayed nerves. Or maybe it was the way he had held her earlier, like nothing in the world mattered more.

Still, fear clung to her like a shadow.

Fear that he might leave again, even for a noble reason.

Fear that she’d be left alone to carry this child.

And worst of all, fear that what they had was fragile, a passing warmth in a cold world.

She turned her face away when he sat beside her again with the tray. "I’m not hungry," she murmured.

But her stomach had other ideas. A loud growl betrayed her defiance.

Jeffrey chuckled softly, unbothered. "Liar," he said, and gently pressed a spoonful of soup to her lips.

She hesitated, cheeks flushed with embarrassment—but she opened her mouth.

Spoon after spoon, she finished the entire bowl in silence.

Jeffrey placed the tray on the nightstand, then looked at her with quiet concern. "Have you seen a doctor?" he asked.

Joanne looked up at him, eyes glistening again—not with sadness this time, but something rawer. Something vulnerable.

"Will you ask me if this baby is yours?" she whispered, voice trembling. "Should I prove it to you?"

Jeffrey froze.

The question hit him like a blow to the chest. He blinked, stunned, speechless for a long moment. How could she even think—

He opened his mouth, but no words came.

All he could do was look at her—his Joanne—his heart breaking at the sheer weight of her doubt.