CHAPTER 95: CHAPTER 95: HUSBAND AND WIFE GET ALONG WELL

The grip was strong, even making her wrist bone ache slightly.

Jean Ellison was startled, instinctively trying to break free, but that force inexorably dragged her, causing her to stumble a few steps, directly into a quiet, secluded alley next to the sanatorium.

The alley was narrow, the light dim, with only a faint street lamp in the distance casting a faint glow, outlining the tall, stern silhouette of the person opposite.

It was Justin Holden.

He let go of her hand but didn’t step back, standing there blocking almost all escape routes.

The unique cold scent of cedar from him surrounded her, replacing the smell of disinfectant she sensed in the treatment room earlier.

Jean steadied her breath and looked up at him.

In the dim light, his face wasn’t clear, but she could feel those sharp eyes staring at her, full of coldness.

"What are you doing here?" he spoke, his voice colder than the evening breeze, emotionless, more of a statement than a question.

Jean rubbed her wrist, which had reddened from his grip, and replied calmly, "I came to see Aunt Kingston."

Justin’s gaze lingered briefly on her hand rubbing her wrist, then moved back to her face, his tone carrying a hint of ridicule.

"In what capacity? As the friend’s daughter of Susan Kingston?"

Whether she came to see Susan Kingston or someone else, only she knew in her heart.

He leaned forward slightly, the pressure quietly spreading.

"Isn’t that identity being used a bit too eagerly? Hmm?"

Jean caught the undertone in his words.

He was questioning the frequency and motive of her visits.

She met his gaze, and despite the dim light, she could still feel the scrutiny and chill deep in his eyes.

"Her condition is unstable and needs more company."

Jean’s voice remained steady, showing no waves.

"Besides, this seems irrelevant to Lawyer Holden."

"Irrelevant?"

Justin repeated the word very lightly, almost with a hint of self-mockery.

The air in the alley seemed to grow even colder.

After a few seconds of silence, he suddenly changed the topic, his tone still bland, yet like an undercurrent hidden beneath an ice layer.

"What happened to your hand?"

Jean subconsciously tucked her injured hand behind her: "I accidentally cut it on some glass."

"Is that so." Justin’s tone was inscrutable, "It seems Doctor Sterling is very attentive, personally handling such a minor injury for you."

He finally mentioned Simon Sterling.

Though his tone was calm as if discussing the weather, Jean sharply caught a nuance beneath that calmness.

Not anger, not interrogation, but jealousy...

Was he jealous, or was it just about his so-called male pride?

She understood suddenly.

He must have seen Doctor Sterling holding her wrist, noticed that moment of unusual closeness between them.

All his current questioning and coolness could be rooted in that.

He wasn’t truly concerned about why she was visiting Susan Kingston again; he was bothered by Simon Sterling’s touch, by the seemingly intimate atmosphere between her and another man.

This realization made Jean’s heartbeat skip a beat, followed by a surge of indescribable complex emotions.

What right did he have to care?

Just because they had shared a bed, he thought she ought to belong to him.

"Doctor Sterling was just fulfilling his duty as a doctor."

Jean explained, devoid of emotion in her voice.

"He happened to be there and helped out."

"Duty?" Justin’s voice was heavy, eyeing her gaze, with a turbulent undercurrent in his dark pupils, "Does that include holding a patient’s wrist and whispering softly?"

He had indeed seen it, and heard it too.

Jean pressed her lips tightly.

Back then, he hadn’t said anything and just walked away; now she realized he had remembered it all.

"What exactly does Lawyer Holden want to say?"

Jean didn’t want to beat around the bush, directly asking.

Her cold, clear eyes seemed especially bright in the dim light, directly meeting his gaze.

Justin looked at her candid, slightly detached gaze, and his jawline seemed to tense for a moment.

His aura became even colder, yet he didn’t immediately respond.

The alley fell silent, with only the occasional sound of traffic from afar.

Suddenly, he reached out, not to touch her injured hand, but again precisely grabbed the wrist he held earlier.

This time, he controlled the strength, not causing her pain.

His fingertips felt slightly cool, transmitting through her thin sleeve.

Jean’s body stiffened slightly, but she didn’t move.

Justin lowered his head, nearing her, shrinking the distance between them to a point where she could clearly see the almost perfectly hidden, surging darkness in his eyes.

His breath brushed past her forehead, voice so low it resembled cold silk sliding over skin.

"Jean, didn’t you want to make a deal with me? Alright, I agree with you."

His gaze fell on her lips for a moment, then suddenly shifted, meeting her eyes, which held nothing but chilling coldness and warning.

"But after you’ve made a deal with me,"

He nearly uttered this sentence word by word, his voice low and clear.

"Your hands and arms can’t be casually touched by other men."

After speaking, he abruptly released her hand, as if repelling something distasteful, retreating a step to recreate the distance.

All the pressure and those briefly exposed abnormal emotions disappeared.

He returned to being the aloof, detached Lawyer Holden, showing no sign of emotion.

He adjusted his impeccably kept suit cuffs, his movements both elegant and icy.

"The car’s at the intersection."

He tossed out this remark, not looking at her, turned, and walked away with steady, indifferent steps, disappearing at the end of the dim light.

Jean stood there alone, the faint coolness of his fingers still lingering on her wrist.

The evening breeze blew by, bringing a chill.

She slowly raised her injured hand, gazing at the bandage, her heart feeling clogged, suffocating.

What on earth... did he mean?

The black car smoothly drove through the gates of Sovera, the security guard at the post extending a familiar smile.

"Mr. Holden, Mrs. Holden, welcome back."

His gaze skimmed over both, landing on the successive disembarkment of Justin Holden and Jean Ellison, his tone warm and cordial.

"Did Mr. Holden go to pick up his wife from work? Such a good relationship."

Justin closed the car door, his face devoid of any expression, neither affirming nor denying, only giving a slight nod in acknowledgment.

His steps did not cease, heading straight toward the unit entrance.

Jean followed half a step behind, her eyelashes quivered briefly, eyes lowering silently, without a word.

What were they, really? Not quite cohabitants, not quite lovers.

The guard seemed accustomed to this silent couple, continuing to smile as he watched them walk one after the other into the glass doors.

The elevator ascended smoothly.

Justin stood at the front, posture erect, eyes fixed on the floor numbers as they changed.

Jean stood slightly behind, where she could catch a whiff of his cooling scent, mixed with the antiseptic smell she brought back from the sanatorium.

A ding sounded as the elevator arrived.

Justin stepped out first, took out a key, and opened the thick entry door.

The door had barely opened a crack when a small figure in pink pajamas darted toward them like a little cannonball, clinging onto Jean’s leg.

"Mommy!" Jesse looked up, his soft voice full of reliance and happiness, "You’re back!"

Jean’s cold expression melted away instantly. She bent down to hug her daughter, gently nuzzling her soft cheek.

"Yes, Mommy’s back."

Jesse, arms around her neck, blinked big eyes, asking earnestly.

"Mommy, did you go see grandma again? Is grandma feeling better today? Did she recognize you?"

Jean was stunned, her body going rigid.

She hadn’t expected Jesse to ask something like that, and she remained silent, turning to glance at the man behind her.

Justin stood at the entrance, having already removed his suit jacket, hanging it in the coat closet, and turned to look at her, his dark eyes cold and deep.

Grandma?

Was she really intending to replace Claire Caldwell and become Susan Kingston’s daughter?