The Ruthless CEO's Revenge Wife
Chapter 73: Marry Me

Chapter 73: Marry Me

The rain had finally dulled to a drizzle by the time the cab screeched to a halt outside Kingsley Corporation. Towering glass and steel loomed ahead, bright against the midnight sky. Jean opened the door without waiting for the engine to stop.

"Hey! Miss! The fare!" the cab driver called after her, frustration rising. But Jean didn’t spare him a glance.

She stepped out... barefoot, soaked, trembling... but her steps didn’t falter. Her white outfit clung to her, transparent in places, revealing the cuts on her knees, the scrapes on her arms. Blood mixed with rain, trailing in soft crimson smudges behind her with every step.

The security guard at the front entrance stepped forward, raising a hand to block her path. "Ma’am, you can’t just..."

Then he saw her face.

Recognition struck like lightning. His mouth opened, closed, then stammered, "M...Ms. Adams?"

Jean’s eyes burned like fire. "Which floor is Logan Kingsley on?"

The man gulped, stepping aside. "T-Thirty seventh. Top floor. The private office."

Jean didn’t thank him.

She pushed past the revolving doors. The sound of her bare feet slapping against the cold marble floor echoed through the grand lobby. Behind her, the cab driver’s angry shouts were swallowed by the glass.

She reached the elevator and stabbed the button. Her reflection stared back at her in the polished metal doors... wild hair, bloodied legs, a haunted stare. She looked insane. Or broken. Or maybe both.

But she didn’t care.

The elevator dinged open. She stepped inside.

The ride was silent. Too silent. Even the soft hum of movement felt deafening compared to the thunderstorm in her chest.

When the doors parted again, the hallway greeted her with sterile lights and silence. Her foot hit the carpet with a wet slap, leaving a faint mark of blood on the pale flooring.

Jean didn’t stop.

She reached the office.

His office.

The heavy double doors loomed before her like a final gate. Without hesitation, she slammed one open.

Jean let out a laugh. Bitter. Broken. Like something between madness and pain.

She walked inside, toward the man who would decide her fate.

______________________________

Inside the top floor of Kingsley Corporation, Logan stood by the window, watching the rainfall in streaks against the glass.

The night had been quiet... until his phone buzzed.

"Sir," came the voice from security. "Apologies for the disturbance, but... Jean Adams just entered the building."

Logan straightened. "What?"

"She...she’s barefoot, rain soaked and her feet bleeding. She demanded to know what floor you were on. We couldn’t stop her."

Logan’s grip tightened on the phone. His pulse ticked faster.

"Let her come," he said and ended the call.

A moment later, the sound of fast approaching footsteps echoed down the hallway... wet, uneven and unrelenting.

He felt her.

He could feel her presence before he saw her. It settled in the air like static before a storm. His chest tightened. His heart drummed in a rhythm he hadn’t heard in years.

And then...

BANG.

The office door flew open with a violent slam.

She stood there.

Jean.

Bloodshot eyes, cheeks flushed with cold and fury, hair tangled in the storm’s kiss. Her white dress clung to her body in a way that made it impossible to ignore... but it wasn’t desire that struck Logan.

It was disbelief.

Because it was the same dress.

The very same dress he had seen hours ago when she walked into the gala. Only now, it was torn and clinging to her like a second skin. Her knees were scraped, blood trickling down her legs, her feet bare and stained red with every step she took.

She didn’t flinch.

She stepped inside like she owned the storm.

And her eyes... God, those eyes... pierced through him as if she were staring straight into his soul.

"Marry me, Logan."

Thunder roared outside, rattling the windows as lightning split the sky. For a brief moment, the entire office was bathed in a stark white glow, illuminating the woman standing before him.

Jean Adams... drenched, breathless, and utterly desperate. As if even nature itself was shocked by her words.

Logan Kingsley prided himself on always being in control. He never lost a negotiation, never faltered under pressure. But for the first time in years, he found himself speechless.

His eyes flickered over her, taking in the way her soaked white outfit clung to her curves, the rain tracing sinful paths down her skin. He clenched his jaw and shut his eyes, forcing himself to focus. But nothing... not his iron will, not his sharp mind... could stop the heat rising in his blood.

Damn her.

Knowing he couldn’t trust himself in this situation, he stood abruptly, grabbed his coat, and strode toward her. Without a word, he draped it over her shoulders to cover her. "Wear this before you catch a fever."

But then his eyes caught the beauty spot, peeking through the deep neckline of her dress. His breath thickened at that sight when suddenly another loud thunder brought him back to reality.

Jean barely flinched.

Instead, she stared at him... eyes red-rimmed, exhausted, but burning with determination. Then, just as he was about to step back, he saw it. A single tear slipping down her cheek.

"Jean..." He reached out, instinct driving him to wipe the tear falling down her cheek.

"Don’t." Her voice cracked as she jerked away, her hands balling into fists. She ripped the coat off and threw it back at him. "I don’t need your sympathy."

Logan exhaled sharply, gripping the fabric. His patience was hanging by a thread. If it was any other woman, he wouldn’t even spare another minute for her. "Then why the hell are you here?"

"I just told you." She lifted her chin, her voice steadier now. "Marry me, Logan. Isn’t that what you wanted?"

His brows furrowed. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Jean scoffed, eyes glinting with something sharp and bitter. "You proposed to me once, remember? Back in school?"

Logan stiffened. That memory was a decade old, and yet, the humiliation burned just as fresh.

"Yeah, and you told me I disgusted you." His lips curled into a smirk, though the memory stung more than he’d ever admit. "So what’s changed? Finally decided I’m worthy of your time?"

"Don’t flatter yourself." Her expression didn’t waver. "I still find you disgusting."

"Then why ask me to marry you?"

Jean stepped forward, invading his space, her eyes locked onto his. "Because only you can destroy my family."