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Chapter 8: Jessie’s POV
Last Updated:
2025-07-22 09:58:48
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My Millionaire Husband’s Secret Chapter 72: Lincoln’s POV
“Lincoln, you have to make sure those picture don’t go public, I-I can’t. It’s already too much. Please. Please.” Jessie begs through tear-stained eyes.“I’ll make sure of it. Try to get some rest. You’ve been through enough today.” I stroke her hair as she lays back. I watch as every tensed and battered muscle in her body begins to relax and her eyes flutter shut just as the nurse knocks before coming in to share what I assume would be the results of her MRI.“Oh, I’m so sorry. I’ll come back in a bit.” She whispers as she backs away slowly.“Is it urgent?” I ask in a hushed tone aside I continue stroking Jessie’s hair. The fluorescent lights in the room hummed a thin, relentless note that braided with the steady beep of the cardiac monitor. The air tasted faintly of bleach and disinfectant; outside the window an evening rain dragged grey beads down the glass. I watched the nurse from the corner of my eye — her face was still young but taught, like someone who’d learned to smile on
My Millionaire Husband’s Secret THE TRUTH
Alan’s father did commit suicide as a result of the failure of his own company but it wasn’t that Jeffrey Adler had refused to or forfeited on any payments. Jeffrey had asked for an extension because of an error within a company with Jeffrey had subcontracted and supplied the copper too after it had been given to him in installment by Alan’s father (Oliver). But Jeffrey was an honest man and although that subcontract didn’t pay him, he took responsibility and had sold one of his properties to be able to pay his invoice and debt to Oliver.The real problem was that no one in Alan’s family had the slightest idea what was truly going on with Oliver. On the surface, he seemed composed—maybe a little distant at times, a bit more restless than usual—but nothing that raised serious suspicion. They chalked it up to stress, long workdays, or the natural wear and tear of adulthood. But beneath that thin veneer of normalcy, Oliver was spiraling.What they didn’t know—what he worked so hard to hi
My Millionaire Husband’s Secret Chapter 71: Alan’s POV
After hearing what Blare had orchestrated, I wondered just how much I allowed her to manipulate me and maybe that’s why I brought up her insecurities. Although, I left out the truths that had to do with my own.When Jessie and I first met, there was something disarmingly sincere about her that caught me off guard. It wasn’t just that she was kind—it was the kind of kindness that felt rare in today’s world, the kind that made you believe, for a moment, that good people still existed in abundance. She had this warmth that drew people in without effort, and for someone like me—someone who had grown up guarded and wary—that warmth was magnetic. It was effortless to fall for her. And fall I did, deeply and without reservation.But love, as I would come to learn, has a way of getting tangled in the threads of the past.It wasn’t until much later—after the late-night phone calls, the quiet shared mornings, the gentle way she said my name—that I learned who she really was: Jessie Adler, daugh
My Millionaire Husband’s Secret Chapter 70: Jessie’s POV
I try to keep my tears at bay and my emotions from opening like a floodgate but the sheer thought of what had just happened was now being freshly replayed in my mind.Her body was reliving the experience, her mind was envisioning that warehouse and replaying every single scene like it was happening to her all over again. Lincoln quickly becomes a barricade, sheltering her from view and using himself as a homing force to keep her from falling into the void that was this unresolved trauma. She could feel his arms wrapped around her protectively. That was probably the only male touch she could bare at this time.“She needs a moment.” I hear him say from deeply within in chest. It wasn’t a request nor a statement. It was a demand. It wouldn’t allow any exceptions.“Okay. Take all the time you need, Jessie. I know this is hard for you.” I rise to my feet to leave the room but am stopped by a soft voice.“No, it’s okay. I can continue.”“Jess, you can take a break. You’ve gone through enoug
My Millionaire Husband’s Secret Chapter 69: Officer Miller’s POV
I step forward with practiced poise and ease except this felt different. This felt personal because of the woman I was doing this to.“Jessie, I want to start by saying that I’m sorry about what’s happened to you today. We’re not here to upset you by any means but this is an ongoing investigation and our sergeant is asking for an immediate victims’ statement and account of what happened today. Is it okay if we ask you some questions?” I hoped she could hear the sincerity in my voice—feel it, even. I wasn’t just being courteous out of habit like my partner, Officer Pennet, who often defaulted to a mechanical politeness honed by years of routine. No, I meant every word I said to her. This wasn’t protocol for me—it was personal.But I knew the truth, too.When you’ve taken a life, even in self-defense, kindness becomes meaningless. Words of comfort feel hollow. It's not hard to understand why she'd see through anything that even vaguely resembled pity.I watched her closely, reading eve
My Millionaire Husband’s Secret Chapter 68: Jessie’s POV
I must have lost consciousness during the MRI. The last thing I remember was the initial injection of dye to ensure my organs would be visible, the hum of the machine, cold and rhythmic like a mechanical lullaby—and now, I’m waking up in a hospital room cast in dim, muted light. Shadows stretch long across the floor from the single low-hanging bulb overhead, and a sterile chill lingers in the air, heavy with the scent of antiseptic and something faintly metallic. But I can also catch a hint of one familiar scent.There’s a sharp, throbbing pain in my right arm, and instinctively, I try to lift my hand to rub it away. But my arm halts midway—jerked abruptly by resistance—and a metallic clank echoes in the silence. What was that?Startled, I glance down.A handcuff encircles my wrist, tight and cold against my skin, chaining me to the bedframe.“What… is this?” I whisper, barely recognizing the rasp of my own voice.Lincoln is seated beside me, his expression cautious but not surprised
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