Chapter 2
The Ceo’s Convict Wife
Chapter 2
What Rosalie said was, âIf you keep hitting, he might die.â
âSo what?â Jonathan lowered his head to look frigidly at Rosalie, who was struggling to get up from the ground.
Rosalie froze. It was only at this moment that she had a good look at this
man.
He had an attractive face with a straight nose and thin but well-shaped lips. His facial features could be said to be exceedingly exquisite, but at this moment, there was no expression on his countenance.
Those eyes beneath his bangs were now lifeless as if human lives meant nothing to him. It seemed as though he didnât care about other peopleâs lives or his own.
Rosalie took a deep breath before saying, âItâs not worth getting in trouble over someone like him.â
Jonathan stared at her silently and then released his grip moments later. At once, Timothy felt like he was saved. Disregarding the blood on his face, he quickly got in the car with the woman and fled away.
In the vehicle, Timothy gritted out, âJust wait and see. Iâll find someone to teach that fellow a lesson!â
The quiet womanâs pupils suddenly constricted as she finally recalled why that man had seemed a little familiar to her.
In the past, when she attended a banquet, she had once caught a glimpse of that man from afar.
âItâs Jonathan Youngblood. That man earlier is Jonathan Youngblood!â âJonathan Youngblood? As in the richest man in Strico? How is that possible?â Timothyâs expression looked as if he had seen a ghost. âBut⦠he really looks exactly like Jonathan,â answered the woman timidly. The duo exchanged helpless glances with faces as white as a sheet. Meanwhile, Rosalie looked at the man in front of her and whispered, âThank you⦠for just now.â
The man said nothing and merely walked to the other side to sit down with his back against the wall.
âIs he⦠not going home? The weather is so cold now, and the
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The Ceoâs Convict Wife temperature at night will drop to 14 degrees Fahrenheit. If he stays here all night, who knows if heâll still be alive tomorrow morning!â she mused. At the thought that he had saved her earlier, Rosalie walked toward him. âArenât you going home yet? Whereâs your family? Do you have their phone numbers? I can help you call them to pick you up,â Rosalie offered, standing in front of the man.
He slowly raised his head and looked at her with those lifeless eyes once more. However, he still did not answer her.
All of a sudden, Rosalie felt everything fall silent.
For a moment, she felt like she was seeing how she looked after she was sentenced back then.
At that time, everything was bleak for her. Even if she lived, sheâd simply be living a hopeless life.
âIf you have nowhere to go, then come with me.â Those words slipped. out of her mouth just like that.
It had never crossed Rosalieâs mind that sheâd dare to take an unknown man back to her place on impulse.
âMaybe itâs because he saved me, or maybe⦠he has somehow made me see the former me,â she reflected.
âThis is where I live. If you donât mind, Iâll help you lay out a mat on the floor to sleep on later,â Rosalie said.
Seeing that the other party was not responding, Rosalie took out a new towel and toothbrush and then handed them to him.
âYou can go to the bathroom and wash up, but I donât have any suitable clothes here for you. So, donât get your clothes wet later.â
After the man entered the bathroom, Rosalie began to lay out a mat and then took out a spare quilt.
Her rental home was not spa cious, being only around 108 square feet in size. It was a small suite with a single bathroom.
When the man came out, he was still wearing his own clothes, but his hair was damp. Evidently, he had washed it.
Seeing his hair still a little dripping wet, Rosalie picked up a towel and instructed, âBend down.â
He fixed his gaze on her.
âI just want to help you dry your hair. I donât mean anything else. If you
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The Ceoâs Convict Wife
leave your hair this wet, you could easily catch a cold.â
His gaze remained fixated on her until he asked a long time later, âAre you worried about me?â
His cold voice sounded rather pleasant.
âYes.â Rosalie didnât avoid his gaze. âSince I brought you back, I donât want you to get sick.â
The manâs eyelashes fluttered slightly, and he slowly bent down.
Rosalie then covered his hair with the towel and started drying it. âWhatâs your name?â
Only after a long silence did he eventually reply, âJon.â
âJon,â Rosalie repeated, knowing that this must be his nickname.
âIâm Rosalie Leighton. Where do you live? And where is your family?â
âI donât have a family.â
Her movements abruptly paused. âSo, heâs all alone in this world? Thatâs why he ended up on the streets?â she pondered.
Although Rosalie had a family, she still lived as though she were an orphan. The only difference between them was that she had rented a place to call home.
âThen, it appears we are quite similar,â she smiled bitterly and continued to dry his hair.
After his hair was almost dried, she then put down the towel and combed
his hair.
It was only after Rosalie combed his bangs back and revealed his convex forehead that she discovered he was way more handsome than she had originally believed.
His refined facial features were very well-defined, especially his eyes, unlike most people. As he looked at her presently, his gaze was no longer empty like before and seemed to indicate a hint of inquisitiveness.
âAre you hungry? Iâll get you something to eat,â offered Rosalie. She hadnât seen him eat anything when she swept the road today.
With that, Rosalie took some pasta and carrots and then made a bowl of pasta for him.
âHere you go. Donât eat too fast, though. Itâs hot.â
He lowered his head and dug in silently.
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The Ceoâs Convict Wife
In the meantime, Rosalie looked at the other party wordlessly. For some reason, the sense of loneliness she always felt upon returning to her rental home seemed to have disappeared. âIs it because someone else is here?â she wondered.
After the man was done eating, Rosalie did the dishes and told him, âI have to sleep with the light on at night. Hope you donât mind.â
Ever since she was released from prison, she got used to sleeping with the lights on.
The man hummed in acknowledgment.
Then, Rosalie climbed into the bed, and he lay on the mat she had prepared for him on the floor.
She closed her eyes and tried to get herself to sleep. It appeared that, somehow, she had grown to fear falling asleep.
Because once she fell asleep, she would always dream of the scenes in those three years. Those painful memories made it difficult for her to
rest.
In fact, many times, she even thought that she would die in that place reeked of mold.
But strangely, she slept through the night until morning and didnât have nightmares like usual.
Rosalie looked at the figure lying on the floor next to the bed in a slight daze.
âIs it because of him? Because someone else is⦠keeping me company in this room?â she contemplated.
She couldnât help walking out of bed and squatting down, almost involuntarily touching his cheek with her hand to feel the temperature spreading through her palm.
âHeâs a real person, not just my imagination. I really brought someone into my rental home last night,â
she thought.
By the time she came back to her senses, she realized that he had already woken up, and his stunning eyes were currently locked onto her.