The Ruthless CEO's Revenge Wife-Chapter 192: The Catch The Mole

Jean inhaled shakily, blinking fast. "I’m fine."

"You’re not." His voice lowered. "Is it...?"

She nodded slowly, not meeting his eyes. "Cramps."

He took a careful step closer, reaching to touch her elbow. "Then don’t go. Stay home. Rest. Cancel your meetings or move them online. You can’t..."

"I have to."

Her tone was firmer than she intended, but she didn’t take it back.

"Logan, this isn’t just another pitch meeting. It’s the quarterly board review. Emma’s not there. The team’s stretched. If I’m not present... things will fall apart."

Logan’s jaw tensed. frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓

"Then let me at least drive you, stay nearby..."

"No."

She turned to face him fully, shoulders squared despite the pain. Her voice was quieter now, but colder. "This is my company. My fight. Before you... it was always just me."

He flinched at that... not from pride, but from guilt. From the truth.

"I know that," he said softly.

She softened a bit. "And I appreciate you. I do. But... I need to do this alone. Because if I ever have to stand without you again, I want to know I still can."

He looked at her... the woman in pain, in heels, in charge. And felt helpless.

"At least take the painkillers I set by the nightstand," he murmured.

She gave a small nod. "Already did."

He stepped aside to let her grab her blazer, but just before she walked out, he reached out and gently wrapped his arms around her waist from behind... holding her against him.

Not tightly. Just... anchored.

Jean closed her eyes briefly, letting her head rest against his shoulder.

"You’re infuriating," he murmured.

"You’re soft," she replied, smirking faintly.

He kissed her temple, his hands lingering like they didn’t want to let go.

But he did.

Because he knew she needed him to.

As the elevator doors closed behind her, Logan stared at the space she left... filled with silence, and fear he didn’t know how to say out loud.

__________________________

Jean entered the Divine Beauty office with a steel expression painted across her face... polished, unreadable. The only tell was the slight clench in her jaw every few steps, the unspoken ache she refused to let show.

Inside her private office, she tossed her bag down and opened her laptop without even taking off her blazer.

Her assistant peeked in, startled by her early arrival.

"Ms. Adams... I mean Mrs. Kingsley..."

"Get me Hannah. Now."

Ten minutes later, Hannah stepped in holding a half-finished smoothie, which she immediately set aside once she caught sight of Jean’s face.

"You okay?"

Jean didn’t answer that.

Instead, she turned her screen toward her. "I need your help. And I need your absolute silence about this."

Hannah blinked, then nodded, her face turning serious.

Jean pulled up the login access history and pointed at the entry from 2:17 AM.

"This user ID belongs to Emma. But Emma’s still in a coma. Someone used her login from inside the office."

Hannah leaned closer, eyes widening. "That’s... the sixth floor router."

Jean nodded slowly. "I thought the same. But last night, the security camera footage for that exact moment was missing. Just... wiped."

She opened a second file... an internal note from IT dated two weeks back.

System update complete... temporary backup storage cleared due to overload.

"It’s being covered as a system glitch." Jean’s voice was calm. Too calm.

Hannah bit her lip. "Could it be a tech guy?"

Jean didn’t answer. Instead, she opened a third file... an access log from earlier that morning.

"There was another login attempt under Emma’s name last night. Same device."

This time Hannah stepped back a little. "You think someone’s using her credentials on purpose?"

"I think someone is hiding behind Emma. And whatever they’re looking for... they’re getting bolder."

She leaned back in her chair, massaging her temples as another wave of pain curled through her.

Hannah glanced at her with concern. "You don’t look well, Jean..."

Jean gave a tight smile. "Doesn’t matter. We need to trace that device. Quietly. Ask our most trusted IT guy to flag every internal connection pinging from that MAC address. Don’t tell anyone else. Not even HR."

Hannah nodded.

"Also," Jean added just before she left, "get me the names of everyone who had Emma’s office keys. Past and present."

As the door closed behind Hannah, Jean sank into her chair, the pain and weight pressing down on her again.

But this time, she didn’t feel helpless.

She felt hunted.

And she was ready to bite back.

____________________________

Hannah smoothed down her pastel blouse and took a slow breath in front of the IT department door. She wasn’t here to fix her email password or talk about font compatibility.

She was here to flirt for a cause. Without sweet talking no one ever helps in corporate.

And maybe, just maybe, uncover a cyber criminal in disguise.

Inside, the office buzzed with low whirring servers and the scent of too much instant coffee. At the far end, Arjun, one of the company’s senior system engineers, sat hunched over three screens, two cups of coffee, and a half-eaten protein bar.

Hannah smiled.

Target acquired.

She knocked lightly on the edge of his cubicle. "Hey, Arjun. Are you busy, or can I borrow your genius brain for a minute?"

He turned, slightly surprised and instantly self-conscious.

"Uh, yeah, sure, Hannah. What’s up?"

She leaned in just enough to keep his attention, brushing imaginary dust from the folder she held. "I’m helping Jean look into an... internal server issue. Nothing big, but she asked me to check on a few IPs and MAC addresses that have been acting weird."

She pulled out a sticky note with the MAC address Jean gave her.

Arjun blinked.

"That’s... specific. Did someone flag it?"

Hannah tilted her head and smiled sweetly. "Let’s just say... Jean has a nose for trouble. She asked me to be discreet. And I thought..." She lightly tapped the desk. "Who better to help me than our handsomely overworked IT genius?"

Arjun blinked a little faster now.

"R-right. Yeah, okay. I can run a soft trace." He spun back to his screens, typing like his life depended on it.

Hannah leaned over to peek... purely for investigative purposes, of course.

"See anything yet?"

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