Love Rents A Room
Chapter 201: His Resolve

Chapter 201: His Resolve

Jeffrey stepped into the heart of the storm, his world already reduced to shards. His chest still ached from the weight of Joanne’s words upstairs, but now, beneath that pain, something else stirred—resolve. Steel-hard. Irreversible.

He scanned the living room—the chaos, the accusations, the whispers slicing through the air like knives. But his eyes eventually found the one man who sat untouched by it all. Philip Winchester.

The old man was still, too still, like the eye of the hurricane. And as Jeffrey looked at him, something twisted in his gut. A strange thought crept in, uninvited.

His grandfather had always pulled strings. But why had he acted so strangely about Joanne? First, he pushed for the marriage like it was a strategic move. Then, the moment Jeffrey hesitated, he was shipped off like a liability. That part, Jeffrey had understood. But when Jeffrey did fall in love with Joanne, Philip didn’t seem pleased. Not truly. There was something guarded behind those calculating eyes. He found one reason or another to separate them.

Something was off.

But the room fell into silence the moment Jeffrey cleared his throat.

"Heather," he said, his voice booming, cutting through the air like a blade.

Heather flinched. Everyone turned to look at her.

But before Jeffrey could speak another word, his mother’s voice rang out like a slap.

"What did that bitch want?" Nicole sneered, her voice curling in disgust. "Is she truly pregnant, or is she just lying to trap you? Whose child is she even carrying? You never met her. You were loyal to Heather~"

Each venomous word hit Jeffrey like a hammer. His fists clenched at his sides, the rage rising fast, hot, uncontainable.

Joanne was right. If his own mother saw her that way, what about the rest of the world? What had he dragged her into?

"Enough," Jeffrey growled, his voice low, but it thundered through the room. "Bitch?" He stepped forward, the veins on his neck standing out, eyes blazing with fury. "Who the hell do you think you’re talking about?"

Nicole faltered, instinctively stepping back from the lethal fire in her son’s expression. His usually calm face now radiated something feral. She had never seen that before.

"Jeff... I’m your mother—you dare speak to me this way?"

Jeffrey laughed, bitter and sharp.

"Mother? What exactly makes you one?" His voice dripped with sarcasm. "Do you know my favorite food? Ever cooked a meal for me? Do you know my favorite color? My blood type?"

Nicole’s face twitched, lips parting slightly, but no words came. She didn’t know. She had never cared to.

"That girl—that orphan," she spat, "she turned you against your own flesh. For what? Money? You think she loves you? She sees your last name and nothing else—"

Jeffrey’s teeth clenched, jaw ticking. And then his voice cut through the room like a whip.

"You would know all about gold digging," he hissed, "because that’s exactly what you did."

The room gasped.

Nicole reeled back as if struck. Her face turned pale, then blotched with red fury. Yes, she had married into the Winchester family to save her collapsing noble lineage. Yes, she’d used pregnancy to secure her place. But how dare her son say it aloud?

"How dare you!" she shrieked. "Do you think she’s better than me? That farm girl can compare to me? She has no pedigree, no family, no class and she had turned you into a uncouth swine!"

She raised her hand.

But it never landed.

Robert, calm and swift, stepped between them, catching her wrist midair. His grip was firm, and his voice was cold.

"That’s enough," he said flatly, his eyes flicking between mother and son. "Don’t make this uglier than it already is."

Nicole snatched her hand back, her breath trembling.

Jeffrey didn’t flinch. His rage smoldered quietly beneath the surface now controlled and focused. He turned his eyes away from Nicole, no longer willing to waste breath on someone who never truly saw him.

His gaze shifted to his grandfather.

Philip still sat motionless, untouched by the chaos around him, but Jeffrey could feel the weight of his silence like a loaded gun resting on the table.

The man had told him not to meet Joanne until everything was settled. He’d disobeyed. He’d gone to her... made love to her... and now she was carrying his child. A child conceived in love, but now blanketed in fear and confusion.

Had he ruined everything?

If he had waited... if he had proposed today, after ending it all with Heather... Would she have believed in his love then?

He swallowed the regret burning his throat.

His eyes finally found Heather, and the air in the room seemed to thicken.

His voice was quiet, but razor-sharp.

"Heather Nelson," he began, every syllable slicing the silence. "You’ll be facing the full extent of the law for espionage and mismanagement. Consider this your final notice. You’re no longer welcome in Winchester Logistics, or anywhere near me."

Heather stiffened. That wasn’t the reaction she’d anticipated.

Her brows knit in disbelief, her voice rising as panic leaked through her faux composure. "Are you kidding me? You hired me properly. How is any of this my fault? Jeffrey, I... I thought you loved me. What is this?"

She tried to cry—tears welling up in practiced rhythm, eyes wide, mouth trembling. But this wasn’t the Jeffrey she’d manipulated before. That man no longer stood before her.

Nicole, ever the enabler, rushed to Heather’s side like it was an instinct. As Heather faked a collapse, Nicole caught her dramatically, shielding her from Jeffrey’s cold stare.

He scoffed.

What a pathetic display.

"Heather," he said, advancing a step forward, his voice still eerily calm, "this is your last warning. I don’t ever want to see your face again. You don’t even have the right to speak my name."

Heather froze, blinking rapidly.

Jeffrey’s tone turned deadly. "If you ever go near my Joanne again... if you so much as think of hurting her..." He stepped closer, his towering frame radiating menace.

Nicole moved in front of Heather, protective, panicked. But Jeffrey leaned forward, glaring over her shoulder, his hand outstretched like he meant to grab Heather by the arm but then stopped.

His hand hovered for a heartbeat. Then he pulled it back.

"I can’t touch filth," he spat. "Especially someone who tried to buy a baby to trap me."

Then, with venom, he let loose the final blow—he spat directly at Heather’s face. She recoiled with a gasp, shocked that Jeffrey would do such a thing.

"Don’t you dare even think about my wife," Jeffrey growled, voice heavy with wrath and love intertwined. "If I can destroy the one I love most, then you, Heather, mean nothing to me. I’ll destroy you in ways you never thought were possible."

He turned and pointed to everyone in the room, slowly, methodically.

And last, his finger landed on his mother.

"You. Especially you."

Nicole’s knees gave way. Her face lost all color. For a moment, she wasn’t the haughty lady, but a frightened woman seeing the wreckage she had helped create.

Heather stumbled back, humiliated, mascara streaking down her face as she bolted from the room. Nicole, red-faced and trembling, followed.

The door slammed.

And finally there was silence.

Robert and the others wanted to see what Jeffrey was going to do next. Jeffrey turned to face his grandfather.

He was done. He was done with it all. He just wanted to be the Jeffrey Daniels who lived in a farmhouse and worked in Shamrock Logistics. He wanted to be the man Joanne loved.

"About Winchester Logistics, I..."