"What if I rged Shamrock with Winchester Logistics as a subsidiary?"
The mont the words left her lips, Jeffrey’s breath hitched. His chest tightened like soone had knocked the air out of him.
"rge?" he repeated, stunned. His voice was hoarse, quiet—barely a whisper. There was sothing raw behind his eyes, sothing that trembled just beneath the surface. "Why would you...?"
He couldn’t finish the sentence.
Because it wasn’t just a business proposal. It wasn’t just strategy.
It was faith.
It was her saying, I believe in you. I trust you. I’m giving you my life’s work, because I see your worth even if no one else ever has.
And that destroyed him.
Because all he could rember in that mont was what he used to think of her.
A girl chasing money. A calculating opportunist. A gold digger.
He had looked at her through the lens of prejudice and arrogance, unable to see past his own bitterness and blind privilege. And now, here she was—offering him everything. Her trust. Her company. Her belief.
And he... he was the one who had nothing to offer back.
He shriveled inside, a knot of guilt twisting in his gut. She looked tall and radiant, like an angel drenched in light. And he? He felt like sothing rotten that had crawled out from under a rock—unworthy even to et her eyes.
And then—amidst the sha—another thought pierced through.
Did she say that because she knows who I am?
The question struck like lightning. His heart skipped a beat, then pounded loud and wild in his chest.
Had she known all along?
Was this her way of saying it?
"Don’t you want to build your company?" Jeffrey asked, trying to steady his voice. "rging it with—uh—another company could hinder that." His eyes searched hers, a trace of panic behind the logic. "Do you think we can’t handle this on our own?"
"No, no..." Joanne shook her head, then winced at the motion. Pain flickered across her face and her brows furrowed.
Her reasons were different—so different. For whatever reason, he didn’t want her to know he was that Jeffrey Winchester. But she didn’t care about the na. She wanted to see him rise. He deserved everything the world refused to give him.
"I know you’re capable of solving this, and that’s why I—"
Before she could finish, he reached out and placed a finger gently on her lips.
"Jo..." he whispered, the touch soft, reverent. His thumb traced lightly across her bottom lip, and sothing distant stirred in him—an echo of a mory long buried. His heart clenched. She looked so fragile, so pale.
"I’m going to expose the lobbying," he said, voice low, firm. "I found a way."
As long as he was by her side, she wouldn’t lose anything. Not her company. Not her dignity. Not even to his family. He knew how much Winchester Logistics stood to gain from acquiring Shamrock, and Philip would probably jump at the chance. But Jeffrey didn’t want that.
"I’m handling it."
Joanne’s eyes welled with tears.
Her proposal wasn’t ant as surrender. It was ant as belief. As love. But if she insisted again, it would sound like she doubted him, and she didn’t. She trusted him with her whole soul.
"I’m so glad you’re by my side, Jeffrey," she said, her voice thick, her throat tightening around the words.
She would wait. Until he felt safe enough to tell her the truth, she’d wait. When the day ca that he proposed, he’d have to talk about family—because family always cos with marriage. He’d have to bring her ho.
Pang.
A dull ache pulsed in her chest. That family.
Last ti... they didn’t even try to see her. They mocked her. Judged her. Reduced her to a caricature, a stereotype, a mistake.
Would it be different this ti?
She didn’t know.
Maybe that’s why part of her liked that he hadn’t revealed his last na. They could et each other as they truly were—no titles, no baggage, no judgnt.
But still... it hurt that he was hiding it from her.
Jeffrey couldn’t hear her thoughts.
He leaned down to kiss her forehead—only to brush his lips against the bandages. His heart tugged painfully. He missed her beautiful hair. Missed running his fingers through the silky strands that frad her face. Gently, he caressed her head, careful not to hurt her, and watched as her eyes slowly fluttered shut.
She was getting tired more easily now, which was expected after everything she’d been through. Still, seeing her like this—so quiet, so fragile—made his chest tighten.
Within minutes, she drifted off to sleep.
Jeffrey stayed still, his hand resting gently on her head. She seed to love that. She never said it aloud, but he’d noticed—she relaxed more when he touched her like this, as if his presence gave her permission to let go, to feel safe enough to rest.
Liam’s words echoed in his mind. The doctors hadn’t shaved all her hair—just the area around her wound. Still, she was self-conscious about it. She always acted like she didn’t care about appearances, but maybe... maybe she did. Or maybe it wasn’t about vanity at all. Maybe she just wanted to look beautiful—for him.
The thought made his throat tighten.
She loved him so much.
The realization clutched at his chest—so raw, so humbling. His lips curved despite the ache inside him.
He’d almost lost her.
Never again.
-----
A couple of days passed.
Joanne had a steady stream of visitors, friends and colleagues who stopped by to wish her well. Through it all, Jeffrey remained by her side at the hospital, quietly attentive.
That’s when he noticed sothing.
She was easily startled.
Not by him—never by him when she saw him coming or when his voice softened her na—but sudden touches, especially from behind or without warning, made her flinch. Her body tensed, breath caught in her throat, as if bracing for sothing terrible.
Liam had told him she wasn’t a touchy-feely person to begin with. She cherished her personal space, allowing only a select few to enter that invisible boundary. Tom Sullivan had violated it—and now, that violation lingered like a bruise beneath her skin.
Jeffrey’s jaw clenched every ti he thought about it.
He would make Tom pay for that. A hundredfold. In trauma. In loss. In every way he could devise.
As expected, Joanne refused to stay in the hospital for the full week the doctors had advised. She was discharged on the second day, stubborn and self-assured as always.
Jeffrey walked beside her, one hand hovering behind her back like a silent guardian. In his other hand, he held a small notepad, scribbling down every instruction the doctor gave.
Joanne watched him from the side with a soft smile on her lips. There was sothing so grounding, so manly, about the way he took notes. Who even did that anymore? He was old-fashioned in the best possible way.
But more than that, she saw the care beneath it all.
He wasn’t just writing things down—he was learning everything he could to take care of her. He asked questions she wouldn’t have dared to ask. He wanted to be on top of everything—not out of duty, but out of love.
She was glad he was staying with her.
These were difficult days. She was surrounded on all sides by problems—legal, business, emotional. Even without him, she would have stood up and fought every battle herself. That’s just who she was.
But with him...
It felt easier.
All she had ever wanted was a strong oak of a man she could lean on. But he was more than that. He wasn’t just soone to rest against—he was soone who quietly, powerfully took her burdens as his own. He moved with the calm certainty of a man who would never let her fall.
She could hardly believe it sotis.
She hadn’t found him—he had walked into her life, carrying a four-leaf clover and scattering light into every shadowed corner.
He brought her love. And luck. And the kind of care that didn’t ask for anything in return.
And she was so, so grateful for him.
-----
That evening, Joanne couldn’t cook.
The sight of her beloved kitchen in disarray made her heart sink, but not as much as the ache in her stomach. She wanted a hearty, soul-warming al—sothing rich and flavorful. Sothing that tasted like ho.
She didn’t an to brag, but she missed her cooking. She had spent years perfecting her dishes to suit her exact taste. The als others made, though offered with love, often missed that subtle note that made her heart hum. Still, she knew she’d have to depend on their kindness for a couple more days.
Jeffrey had gone outside to tend to the horses. The mont they’d heard her voice and sensed her presence, they had stirred into a storm of noise from the barn—restless hooves, excited snorts, and impatient whinnies. They wanted her.
And she wanted them.
But she couldn’t go to them. Not yet. Her body wasn’t ready, and that frustrated her more than she could admit. She hated feeling this weak—this... limited.
Even so, she knew she was blessed. Blessed beyond asure to have people who cared, people who ca running when she fell, people who didn’t let her carry everything alone.
Sighing, she eased herself onto the couch, leaning into the cushions. She had barely settled when she heard thundering footsteps on the porch. Heavy. Eager.
And then—
"Joanne!"
The voice bood through the front door before the knock ca.
She closed her eyes and let out a long sigh, her lips twitching into sothing between a smile and an exasperated frown.
Sam Smith.
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