Built His Empire Then Watched It Burn When He Cheated novel Chapter 566

Jonathan always kept his feelings locked up, the quiet type who never said, "I love you."

So, was there any love at all? Anneliese used to avoid that question completely.

And after finding out that he was the same boy Frederick dragged out of the flames years ago, her answer felt even blurrier instead of clear. Yet, Jessica insisted, telling her, 'He's crazy about you. It's all you for him.'

Those words hit Anneliese's chest like a punch. Her heart suddenly forgot how to beat right. She snapped out of it, eased her hands out of Jessica's grip, acting like it was no big deal. "Yeah, I hear you. I'm gonna see Grandma."

Without hesitating, she tossed off the covers, got up, and headed for the door. Jessica stared at her leaving, made a small shrug, and wandered after her.

As soon as Anneliese stepped into the hallway, she realized she wasn't alone.

Jonathan stood by the big window in the living room, half-undone from the day. The suit jacket was tossed somewhere, his silk shirt open at the neck, two buttons undone like he'd given up trying to look proper.

His tie looked like it had been yanked off carelessly, and a bit of his collarbone showed.

His sleeves were pushed up in a messy roll, showing slim, toned forearms. A cigarette rested between his fingers, glowing faintly. When he shifted his head toward the sound of her footsteps, a wave of smoke drifted across his face, blurring his expression like a smudged painting.

She couldn't read his mood at all. Still, she felt his attention hit her—direct, heavy, and impossible to ignore. Her feet forgot how to move. Without a word, he flicked the cigarette out and closed the distance between them in a few long strides.

"What's going on?" His voice had dropped, calm and quiet, but clearly worried.

Up close, he noticed she didn't look as drained as before. Her cheeks held a touch of color now, not the scary pale she'd been earlier.

At the sight of that, his lips relaxed just a little.

She tossed him a quick glance, already turning away. "I'm gonna check on Grandma. That's all." Brushing past him as she headed for the other room, she noticed the smell clung to the air around him—heavy smoke, like he'd been at it for a while, not just one drag.

It made her slow for half a second.

Then, she turned her head just enough to make a comment. "Maybe ease up on the smoking, will you?"

She kept walking after throwing the line, but her wrist got snatched in one quick pull. She didn't even get a chance to resist. When she looked up at him again, his grip tightened just enough, and suddenly she was yanked into his chest, like he'd been waiting for an excuse to do it.

His mouth lifted into a slow, satisfied half-smile—too amused, too pleased—and his eyes glimmered like he'd just uncovered a secret she didn't mean to show. "What's this?" he teased, voice warm. "Afraid I'm gonna wreck my health?"

He looked at her like he could see every excuse she was trying to hide. The kind of stare that made her ears heat up for no good reason.

Her mind also went completely blank. Of course, he would pick that part. Her lack of an answer clearly entertained him. The smile on his lips deepened, and he bent down just enough that their foreheads lightly bumped together—close enough to feel his breath when he spoke.

Wife… The word came out warm, carrying that faint aftertaste of cigarettes—bitter, but strangely clean at the edges. As he leaned in, it felt less like he was closing the distance and more like he was testing whether she'd let him.

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