The day had been rciless.
Emails flooding the computer screen. Departnt heads swarming in and out of the office for the whole day. Deadlines barking like angry dogs making it harder to complete it by then.
And Jean?
Jean hadn’t taken a breath.
It was nearly evening, and this was her third high pressure eting of the day. Hannah had tried everything... crackers, water bottles, even sneaking in a protein bar under the guise of "trying new marketing samples."
But Jean had brushed her off every ti with that sa practiced smile. Now, as they walked toward the boardroom for the third ti of the day, Hannah caught the way Jean’s steps faltered.
Just a fraction.
Like her heel caught on the carpet. Or the air had shifted strangely.
Then again.
And again.
"Jean?" Hannah called, brows furrowing.
Jean didn’t answer.
She slowed, her shoulders stiffening, her hand reaching out blindly toward the wall.
And then her knees buckled.
"Jean!"
Hannah rushed forward, but she wasn’t fast enough.
Jean swayed, heels twisting awkwardly beneath her. Her body crumpled to the floor with a soft thud that echoed louder than any thunderclap in the hallway.
Papers spilled.
Her hair fell across her face.
And she didn’t move.
"HELP!" Hannah scread, falling to her knees beside her. "Sobody HELP!"
________________________
Footsteps thundered down the corridor as staff rushed in from every direction. Soone was calling security. Another ran for the in-house nurse.
Hannah cradled Jean’s head in her lap, hands trembling.
"Jean, please," she whispered, brushing her hair back. "Co on... don’t do this. I brought you water, I brought you food... Why didn’t you take care of yourself? Logan’s going to be so upset."
Jean’s lips were pale. Her skin is clammy.
She looked like she was finally letting the weight of the world on her shoulders win.
And it was terrifying.
___________________________
The second Logan’s phone rang and he heard Hannah’s panicked voice, his blood turned to ice.
She didn’t even have to say Jean’s na.
He was already out the door.
By the ti he reached the office, the corridors were flooded with whispers. Concerned glances. So staff looked shaken. So are confused.
All he saw was red.
Then white.
The dical team was just wheeling Jean into the executive lounge they’d turned into a temporary care unit. An oxygen mask rested on her lips, her skin pale against the dark business blouse she hadn’t even had ti to unbutton.
She looked so small.
So unlike Jean.
Hannah was pacing nearby, eyes glassy. "I tried, Logan. I swear. She didn’t eat... she said she was fine and then she just collapsed all of a sudden..."
Logan squeezed her shoulder. "It’s not your fault." His voice was rough. "You did what I asked. I should’ve done more. I should have done better."
He didn’t wait for clearance.
He barged into the room, past the nurse checking Jean’s vitals, and dropped down to his knees beside her.
Her hand was cold.
He took it gently into his, brushing a thumb over her fingers. "Jean... What the hell are you doing to yourself?"
There was no answer.
Until there was.
A twitch.
Her eyelids fluttered... slow, hesitant... before they opened fully.
And the first thing she saw was him.
Logan’s breath caught.
"Hey," he said softly, his voice breaking despite himself. "You’re awake."
Jean blinked slowly, her gaze unfocused. Then confusion crossed her face, followed by... guilt.
"Logan?"
"Yeah. You scared the hell out of ."
She opened her mouth, but her throat was dry. He grabbed the water bottle the nurse left and held it to her lips, helping her take a few small sips.
"What... happened?"
"You collapsed," he said bluntly. "In the hallway. From exhaustion and severe dehydration. Probably because soone decided crackers and coffee are a balanced diet. I feared this was going to happen and it just did."
Jean gave the faintest smile. "I’m fine now."
Logan’s eyes darkened. "Don’t say that. Don’t ever lie to with that word again."
She looked away.
He gently brought his hand to her cheek, turning her back toward him. "You don’t get to break yourself just because you think you can’t lean on anyone."
Jean’s lips trembled. "I didn’t an to..."
"I know," he said softly, leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead. "But next ti you fall... I want it to be in my arms. Not the floor."
___________________________
Jean was finally resting.
Tucked beneath soft throws, a hint of color returning to her cheeks. Her breathing had evened out. No stress line on her forehead. No screen glowing in her lap. Just... quiet.
Logan stood in the doorway, watching her like she might vanish if he blinked.
Then his phone buzzed. Hannah’s na flashed.
He stepped out of the room before answering. Didn’t want to disturb Jean’s much needed sleep.
"Yeah?"
Her voice ca fast, tight with tension. "They’re mad. The board mbers. I just overheard a few of them talking in the executive lounge. They’re not just worried... they’re angling for sothing."
Logan’s jaw tensed. "What do you an?"
"Gerald Monroe is stirring the pot. He’s calling Jean unfit for the position. Pushing for an ergency vote to replace her as CEO. He’s already pulling in Derek Adams’s old allies who are among the mbers."
Logan’s blood went cold.
Jean... still recovering from collapsing in their hallway and these vultures were already tearing at her legacy. He turned toward the balcony, running a hand through his hair. His voice dropped cold and lethal.
"Tell them..." he said, eyes narrowing. The city before him witnessing his next words "...there will be a eting. But it won’t be called by them."
"Then who?" Hannah asked.
Logan’s lip curled into sothing between a snarl and a smirk. "That very eting will be conducted by her husband... Logan Kingsley."
Hannah was silent for a beat, confusion turned into admiration. "...You’re going full on doting husband mode, aren’t you?"
"You have no idea." Logan Paul said with an undying promise. He will not let anyone snatch Jean’s hard earned legacy from her.
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