The Ruthless CEO's Revenge Wife-Chapter 217: Dress to Impress

Logan shifted in his sleep, his arm tightening around Jean’s waist, pulling her closer. His eyes cracked open, heavy with sleep, lashes still clumped together.

"Watching me, Mrs. Kingsley?" His voice was low and husky, roughened by morning.

Jean blushed, as she got caught watching him. "Maybe," she whispered, softer than she intended.

His lips curved lazily into a half-smile. "Like what you see?"

"Maybe," she echoed, teasing back, though her heart beat wildly.

Logan leaned in, forehead brushing hers. "You’re dangerous this early," he murmured, thumb rubbing absent circles against her hip.

"And you’re smug," she shot back, her voice barely above a breath.

He laughed, the sound low and warm, before pressing a brief, soft kiss to her temple. "Guilty."

They lay there a moment longer, wrapped in quiet warmth, before the world beyond the bedroom slowly began to call.

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Jean pulled on a light cardigan over her dress while Logan moved about the bedroom, still buttoning his crisp shirt. Sunlight spilled in, catching on the neat line of his jaw and the faint warmth in his eyes as he watched her.

"So," he began, voice casual but attentive, "tomorrow’s yacht party. Father’s expecting us to stay most of the day."

Jean hesitated, pulling her hair to one side. "Do I need to be worried about meeting anyone new?" she asked, lightly. But her tone betrayed a hint of worry.

Logan’s lips curved, half amusement, half reassurance. "Mostly family, business partners... a few potential investors. Father wants to formally introduce you as my wife."

Jean’s stomach flipped... a strange cocktail of nerves and something softer, deeper, she refused to name.

"And by formally, you mean...?"

Logan stepped closer, gently fixing a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. "He means we’ll need to look like a married couple in love."

His thumb brushed lightly over her cheek, making her pulse flutter.

"I can do that," she murmured, almost challenging.

"Oh, I know," Logan teased, eyes darkening, his tone softer. "You’ve been doing it so well lately it’s making me forget what’s real and what isn’t."

Jean’s breath caught. Heat crept up her neck, but she covered it with a quick sip of coffee. "What should I wear?"

"Something elegant, but not too sharp," Logan said, leaning against the counter now, a coffee cup cradled in one hand. "Father likes when you look confident. And I..." His gaze swept over her, softer now. "I like when you look comfortable."

Jean glanced at him, surprised by the honesty tucked into that last part.

"And you?" she asked. "What are you going to wear?"

Logan smirked faintly. "I’ll be in a suit. Trying to look like a respectable heir while fighting the urge to drag you somewhere private."

Jean rolled her eyes, but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at her lips. "Behave, Mr. Kingsley."

"I’ll try," he teased, stepping closer. "But tomorrow might be... tricky."

Her brow creased. "Tricky how?"

"Rumor is, Jared invited someone new," Logan’s voice dropped, a shadow briefly darkening his expression. "A potential business partner."

Jean’s stomach tightened. "Should I know who?"

Logan shook his head. "I don’t know yet. But tomorrow... stay close to me, alright?"

She swallowed. "Alright."

He brushed his knuckles lightly down her arm. "And Jean... tomorrow, let them see us."

"See us?"

"That you’re mine," Logan murmured, voice warm but threaded with quiet protectiveness. "And I’m yours."

Jean’s chest tightened at his words... at the weight behind them. For a fleeting second, she forgot why their marriage began, or why she’d ever feared him.

She nodded, voice soft. "Okay."

Logan leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead before pulling back, his tone lighter again. "Now finish your coffee before it gets cold. And don’t overthink the dress... you’d look perfect even in pajamas."

"Shut up," she muttered, blushing, but she couldn’t hide the small, genuine smile blooming on her lips.

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Jean barely looked up from her laptop when the office door burst open, a familiar swirl of perfume and determination filling the room.

"Hannah, I really don’t have time to spare..."

"Exactly!" Hannah interrupted, striding across the room in her kitten heels, ponytail bouncing behind her. "You don’t have time to look like a tired CEO tomorrow. You need to look like Logan Kingsley’s wife. And my sister in law."

Jean pressed her lips together, trying to hide a smile. "I am his wife," she muttered.

"Yes, but tomorrow you need to slay, not just exist," Hannah declared, folding her arms like a stern manager.

Jean sighed, glancing at the clock. "I still have those reports to finalize before tonight..."

Hannah clicked her tongue, stepping closer and gently closing Jean’s laptop, ignoring Jean’s scandalized gasp. "You can finalize your reports after you finalize your dress. The yacht party isn’t just another cocktail event, Jean. Father invited half the city’s eyes."

Jean hesitated. The idea of being watched... photographed, whispered about... made her chest tighten.

Last time she went to a yacht party in South Korea, she ended up in the ocean. If it wasn’t for Logan, she would have been dead by now.

But Hannah’s gaze softened. "Hey," she said gently, "you won a big thing just two days ago, Jean. You should let people see it. You should let them see you."

Jean swallowed. "I’m not sure I even know what looks good on me anymore," she admitted, voice low. "It was Emma, who used to handle all my fashion."

Hannah’s grin returned, full force. "That’s why you have me," she teased, grabbing Jean’s hand and tugging her up from the chair. "Now come on. Before you hide behind spreadsheets again."

Jean gave a helpless laugh, letting herself be pulled along.

"Hannah, I swear... I have work to do."

"Shhh," Hannah cut her off, a dramatic finger to her lips. "No time for work! We need to slay tomorrow."

Jean rolled her eyes, but her chest felt strangely lighter as they walked toward the elevator. For the first time in days, she realized she wasn’t thinking about boardrooms, or sabotage, or shadows in the corners.

Just about what kind of dress would make Logan’s eyes linger a little longer tomorrow.