Joanne lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, her mind refusing to settle. She had taken her medication, just as the doctor instructed. She hadn’t even thought about drinking tonight—not even a sip. That, in itself, surprised her.

What is going on with me?

Her thoughts swirled in a relentless loop, always circling back to one person.

Jeffrey.

She had her suspicions when Philip seemed unusually interested in him. The way he studied Jeffrey, the careful way he asked questions and the way he cared for him, had sparked something uneasy in her gut. But she didn’t wanted to dwell on it.

Then she overheard the bodyguards talking.

They thought they were being discreet. One of them clearly didn’t know the truth, but the other? He spoke with certainty.Jeffrey was Philip Winchester’s grandson.

At first, she wanted to believe it was a joke. Some ridiculous story meant to tease his friend.

But doubt had already taken root.

She always knew Jeffrey came from money. He had that polished ease, those mannerisms that belonged to someone who grew up with wealth. She had assumed he had lost it somehow, fallen on hard times, made bad choices and ended up here.

Butthe Winchester family?

Why would Philip and Jeffrey hide that from her?

Then the guard said something that shattered every lingering doubt.

Jeffrey had been cast away because he had refused to marry the woman Philip had chosen for him.

The truth hit her like a physical blow, knocking the air from her lungs.

Jeffrey Daniels, her paying guest, the man who had slowly wormed his way back into her life...

Was Jeffrey Winchester.

The man who had left her behind.

The man who had broken her heart.

The man who had been the source of her deepest pain.

Philip’s casual remark about the honey had been the final confirmation if the ease of conversation between them was not a better indicator. Jeffrey knew Philip and was not intimidated by him in the least.

But it wasn’t just the words when Philip mentioned the honey; it was Jeffrey’s reaction. He didn’t look confused or surprised.

He had looked like a man who had just beenslappedwith the truth.

He knew.

He had known all along.

Which meant his presence herewasn’tan accident.

Had he come here with a plan? An agenda?

He had rejected her once. Coldly. Cruelly. He had torn her apart and walked away without looking back.

And yet now...

Now, he touched her like she was precious. Held her close like she was something he had longed for. Looked at her like she waseverything.

What is that about?

She still remembered that day. The day she was supposed to become his wife. She remembered the moment she crossed paths with him in the hallway, right before the wedding was supposed to begin.

The hatred in his voice. The disgust in his tone.

He hadhatedher.

He had wanted nothing to do with her.

If that was true... thenwhat was he doing now?

Why was he acting as if helovedher?

Could she truly trust him?

Her mind refused to settle, but exhaustion clung to her body like a weight. She didn’t have the energy to keep fighting her own thoughts. Her eyes fluttered shut.

And this time, she surrendered to sleep.

-----

The next morning unfolded like any other—almost.

Jeffrey woke up late, rushed through breakfast, and dashed out the door, just as he always did. But something was different.

He washappier.

His entire face seemed brighter, glowing with a quiet joy. Even Fluffy’s obnoxious farts, which would normally make him gag, had him laughing. He talked a lot—mostly about her company and the steps they could take to strengthen it. He spoke as if he were part of it, as if itmatteredto him.

As ifhe belonged.

And then, breaking their unspoken routine, he kissed her before leaving.

Not just a quick peck.

A proper kiss.

"I don’t want to leave you," he murmured against her lips, his breath warm, his soft lips lingering.

When she looked up at him, his hazel eyes shimmered—like sunlight catching an emerald lake. His pupils were blown wide, dark pools brimming with something raw. Something consuming.

He hesitated, as if he wanted to stay.

And God... he wassohandsome.

And cute.

The moment he left, Joanne collapsed onto the couch, curling into herself, hands covering her face.

His warmth still lingered on her lips. His scent still clung to her skin.

Damn it.

Shaking it off, she sat up and grabbed the legal notice Sam had sent her. She had already forwarded it to her lawyer, but she needed to go through it herself.

Flipping on the local news, she settled in to read.

She barely made it past the first paragraph before something on the screen caught her attention.

Her name.

Bold. Unapologetic. Andnotin a good way.

The anchor’s voice dripped with practiced neutrality as they announced thatreliable sourceshad come forward, exposing Joanne Smith of Shamrock Logistics as a corrupt, power-hungry businesswoman.

One source accused her of using money and influence to get away with illegal dealings.

Another blurred up figure in a dark room and modified voice, was so sure that she was in the human trafficking business and that was how she rose up so quickly. That person also added that he had proof.

Another—an ex-employee—claimed she was a terrible boss with control issues.

The channel then put out a public call formoresources to come forward. They vowed tobring her to justicedespite her connections withpowerful people.

Joanne exhaled sharply, rubbing her forehead.

They were going all out.

At least they hadn’t name-droppedWinchester.She didn’t want that poor old man dragged into this mess.

She picked up her phone. She needed to handle the trafficking accusation. She also needed to ask her drivers to be extra careful. At times, when powerful people wanted to, stuff ended up where they were not supposed to be. She didn’t want to be framed. Her drivers were all vetted but she needed to make sure.

But it didn’t end there.

The next segment was about heragain.

This time, it wasLuca Caruso’sfamily. His sister, specifically, was demanding a deeper investigation into his death.

She believed he had been murdered incold blood—and that the police were covering for Joanne Smith.

Joanne leaned back, closing her eyes.

When it rains, it pours.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by lotustale.com