Chapter 14 Mine To Protect
1346 Words
The hallway suddenly felt colder.
Gena lowered her phone slowly.
Christian’s voice still echoed faintly.
“Gena?”
Before she could answer—
Jared’s gaze dropped toward the screen.
And immediately—
Something dark flickered inside his eyes.
“Who is that?” he asked quietly.
His tone remained calm.
Too calm.
Gena swallowed.
“Christian.”
Silence.
Dangerous silence.
The name clearly meant something to him.
“The restaurant owner?”
She frowned.
“Yes.”
His jaw tightened.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Christian’s voice returned.
“Everything alright?”
Gena looked away from Jared.
“Yes.”
But her answer sounded weaker than intended.
“Should I call later?” Christian asked gently.
Before she could respond—
Jared stepped closer.
Too close.
His presence alone disrupted her breathing.
“No need,” he said calmly.
The words were meant for Christian.
And somehow—
That irritated her.
She pulled the phone slightly away.
“I’ll call you back,” she said quickly.
Christian hesitated.
Then softly—
“Take care of yourself.”
The call ended.
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
Gena slid the phone into her purse and crossed her arms.
“What?”
Jared’s expression remained unreadable.
“You seem comfortable with him.”
Her brows lifted.
“You were listening?”
“You were speaking loudly.”
“No, you were standing too close.”
His gaze darkened.
“And he calls often?”
“He called once.”
“He sounds concerned.”
The accusation sharpened her patience.
“He was being kind.”
Something cold entered his expression.
“And I’m not?”
The question caught her off guard.
Because strangely—
She didn’t know how to answer.
You terrify me sometimes.
The truth hovered dangerously close.
Instead—
She said nothing.
And somehow—
That annoyed him more.
Jared stepped closer again.
The hallway suddenly felt too narrow.
“You gave him your number.”
“You checked my phone again?”
His silence answered.
Anger flashed.
“You have serious boundary issues.”
“And you trust strangers too easily.”
Her pulse rose.
“He was respectful.”
“And interested.”
The certainty in his voice startled her.
She laughed softly.
“You sound jealous.”
Wrong move.
His eyes darkened.
“I sound observant.”
“No,” she corrected. “You sound territorial.”
For one long second—
Neither looked away.
Then—
His voice lowered.
“You’re my wife.”
There it was again.
That possessive reminder.
As though marriage erased individuality.
“As far as I remember,” she said coolly, “wives are still human beings.”
His jaw flexed.
“And husbands don’t enjoy watching their wives entertain other men.”
The accusation struck her nerves immediately.
“I am not entertaining anyone!”
The hallway echoed.
Employees nearby wisely disappeared.
Jared looked calm.
Which somehow made him more infuriating.
“You smiled while speaking to him.”
“And you monitored my smile?”
His expression hardened.
“You smiled.”
Heat rushed to her face.
This man was impossible.
“You’re unbelievable.”
Before the argument could escalate—
Ado suddenly appeared.
And judging from his expression—
The timing was unfortunate.
“Sir.”
Jared looked away first.
“What?”
Ado hesitated.
“There’s… a situation downstairs.”
Both turned.
“What situation?” Gena asked.
Ado looked uncomfortable.
“The reporters returned.”
Her stomach dropped.
Again?
“They’re asking questions about Mrs. Jacobo.”
Wonderful.
Absolutely wonderful.
Jared’s face hardened.
But Ado wasn’t finished.
“There are also…” He paused carefully. “Online allegations.”
The hallway quieted.
Gena frowned.
“What allegations?”
Ado handed over a tablet.
And the moment she saw the screen—
Her blood ran cold.
A viral article filled the display.
WHO REALLY IS MRS. JARED JACOBO?
FROM POVERTY TO BILLIONAIRE WIFE?
Her fingers stiffened.
Below the headline—
Photos.
Old scholarship photos.
University records.
Financial background.
And carefully twisted narratives.
The article painted her as an opportunist.
A poor woman who allegedly targeted the wealthy Jacobo family.
Her breathing slowed.
No.
This wasn’t coincidence.
Someone had searched.
Someone wanted to humiliate her.
And suddenly—
She remembered Sarah.
Beside her—
Jared’s expression changed.
Dangerously.
Cold anger settled across his face.
“Who released this?”
Ado lowered his head.
“We’re tracing it.”
Gena kept reading.
The comments were worse.
Gold digger.
Trap queen.
No wonder she hid.
Sarah deserved better.
Her chest tightened painfully.
The scholarship photos hurt most.
Not because she was ashamed.
Never.
But because those years had been difficult.
Hungry.
Lonely.
And private.
Her fingers trembled.
Then—
Without warning—
The tablet disappeared from her hands.
Jared took it.
And switched the screen off.
She looked up.
His face looked frighteningly calm.
Too calm.
“Stop reading.”
Her voice came quietly.
“It’s true.”
His gaze shifted toward her.
“What?”
“I was poor.”
The confession felt strangely vulnerable.
His jaw tightened.
“I know.”
“No.”
She looked away.
“You don’t.”
Silence.
For a moment—
Something vulnerable surfaced inside her.
“I worked two jobs.”
Her voice softened.
“I skipped meals.”
The memories tasted bitter.
“I barely survived college.”
The hallway had grown quiet.
Even Ado looked uncomfortable.
“I know what people think,” she continued. “That girls like me dream of rich men.”
Her laugh came softly.
“But I only dreamed about tuition.”
Jared watched her carefully.
And unexpectedly—
Something twisted inside his chest.
Because she did not sound ashamed.
Only tired.
And suddenly—
The article felt uglier.
Crueler.
Ado cleared his throat.
“Should we prepare a statement?”
Jared’s expression cooled.
“No.”
Gena looked at him.
No?
He handed the tablet back to Ado.
Then calmly said—
“Find out who started it.”
His voice had changed.
Lower.
Sharper.
And frighteningly controlled.
“We’ll handle the press later.”
Ado nodded and left.
The hallway emptied.
Leaving them alone again.
Gena exhaled.
“I can deal with it.”
His gaze settled on her.
“No.”
Her brows furrowed.
“I’ve dealt with worse.”
His jaw tightened.
And then—
His voice lowered.
“So you’ll let strangers drag your name through dirt?”
The question startled her.
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you’d fight alone.”
She looked at him.
His expression remained unreadable.
Yet something felt different.
Not softer.
Never soft.
But protective.
Dangerously protective.
“I’m used to it,” she admitted.
The answer visibly bothered him.
That—
More than the article—
Angered him.
Used to it?
Used to being attacked?
Something ugly stirred inside him.
Because suddenly—
The idea of people insulting her irritated him.
More than it should.
He stepped closer.
And for once—
His voice lost its sharp edge.
“You don’t have to be.”
The words stunned her.
She looked up.
Their eyes met.
And for one strange second—
The hallway disappeared.
No arguments.
No press.
No power struggle.
Only silence.
And something neither of them understood.
Then—
His phone rang.
The screen lit up.
Sarah Valencia Calling.
The moment shattered.
Jared looked down.
His expression hardened again.
He answered.
“What?”
Sarah’s voice trembled through the speaker.
“Jared… I need to see you.”
His eyes remained on Gena.
“I’m busy.”
“It’s important.”
He looked away.
And somehow—
That simple movement left Gena unexpectedly cold.
“Later,” he said.
Then ended the call.
But far away—
Inside her condominium—
Sarah lowered her phone slowly.
Her eyes burned.
And beside her—
An investigator placed another folder on the table.
“More information, ma’am.”
Sarah looked at Gena’s photos.
Then smiled.
Not kindly.
“Good,” she whispered.
Because the first attack—
Had only been the beginning.
- Writer
