The Ceo’s Convict Wife by Jennifer Mike

Chapter 173
In the quiet of midnight, the door separating the two rooms inched open as Rosalie slumbered peacefully in her bed, and a tall
figure entered with graceful steps. Jonathan’s usually composed eyes now brimmed with a profound tenderness as he fixed his
gaze upon the sleeping woman before him.
“Good night, Rosie. His voice, low and filled with an indescribable yearning, spilled from his lips.
During lunchtime the following day, the diner received a massive order of over 30 servings. Typically, Rosalie handled around
seven to eight deliveries at a time, so this order was equivalent to the diner’s entire lunch rush.
Amelia swiftly prepared the takeout orders and then turned to Rosalie, saying, “You’ll handle the delivery for this, okay? Thanks!”
“What about the other orders?” Rosalie inquired, mindful that taking on this large order might affect her ability to handle
other smaller orders.
“No worries,” Amelia reassured her. “I’ll have my mom put Aiden to sleep, then temporarily take over the cashier’s duties while I
deliver the others. We have a spare electric scooter in the restaurant.”
Amelia viewed this order as a significant opportunity for the day. If she completed it, she would be earning over a hundred
dollars. Therefore, she was quite pleased at the moment.
However, when Rosalie saw the delivery address of the order, her heart skipped a beat. The address belonged to the
headquarters of Youngblood Group.
To her relief, the name and phone number listed on the order were unfamiliar and did not match Jonathan’s. “Maybe it’s just a
coincidence,” she thought.
After Amelia packed the orders, Rosalie loaded them onto the electric scooter and headed to Youngblood Group’s. headquarters.
It was impossible for her to carry over 30 takeout packages at once, so she intended to park her scooter outside and then make
multiple trips to deliver them all. Unexpectedly, a security guard approached her while she was parking
“Are you Ms. Rosalie Leighton?” the guard asked. Surprised that the guard knew her name, Rosalie hesitated before replying,
“Yes.”

As the security guard spoke, he beckoned two of his colleagues to assist. Together, they wheeled over a handy stainless steel
trolley to Rosalie’s side and swiftly loaded all orders onto the trolley. “It’s much more convenient this way, the guard
remarked.
Rosalie paused for a moment in puzzlement. She could tell that the security guards knew she was coming and had prepared
for it.
“Thank you... But may I ask, how did you know my name? And who instructed you to prepare this trolley?” she inquired.
The security guard said, “It was Mr. Gibson who informed us. Mr. Gibson also instructed us to prepare this trolley.”
“Mr. Gibson? Is he referring to Carlos Gibson, the secretary who works for Jonathan?” Rosalie wondered, furrowing her brows in
suspicion. She had encountered him several times in the hospital back then.
With this thought, she couldn’t help but bite her lower lip in contemplation
As Rosalie anxiously pushed the cart into the Youngblood Group, a security guard approached the other guard who had spoken
to her earlier, asking, “Captain, why did Mr. Gibson want us to keep an eye on this delivery person? Is there some sort of
connection between her and Mr. Gibson? We have tons of food delivery workers coming by every day, and this never happened
before. Remember that time when a delivery person brought 100 cups of bubble tea? Mr. Gibson didn’t give us such instructions
back then.
“Don’t fret over the higher-ups’ matters,” the security captain advised. “In any case, when you encounter this woman again, don’t
treat her like an ordinary delivery person.”
Meanwhile, after Rosalie wheeled the trolley into the lobby, the receptionist at the front desk greeted her and simply asked for
her name, omitting the usual formalities like signing in. She even kindly pressed the elevator button for Rosalie.
All of these occurrences shifted Rosalie’s earlier speculations in a different direction. When she reached the delivery address
specified in the order, a tall woman in business attire approached her. “You must be Ms. Leighton. I made the order. You may
leave the rest here, but please take these two servings to the CEO’s Office.”
Rosalie’s heart skipped a beat, and her earlier suspicions were slowly but surely being confirmed.

“CEO’s Office... Jonathan is the CEO of Youngblood Group. Are these two meals intended for his office?” Rosalie couldn’t help
but wonder.
Rosalie picked up the two takeout packages and approached Jonathan’s office. Standing before the imposing dark wooden door,
she took a deep breath and gently knocked twice.
“Come in,” a voice sounded from within.
Rosalie gently pushed the door open and stepped inside. Jonathan was at his desk, his head bent over a stack of documents.
“I’ll place your takeaway on the coffee table,” Rosalie said, pursing her lips slightly.
Jonathan lifted his head and watched Rosalie walk to the coffee table and set the food down. “Why the rush, Rosie?” As he
spoke, he stood up and walked around his desk, coming closer to her.
“I still have to go back to the diner to make more deliveries,” she responded.
“Have you had lunch? Jonathan changed the topic abruptly.
Caught off guard, Rosalie paused and blinked in confusion.
“It seems you haven’t eaten yet. How about having lunch with me? I’m curious about the food at the diner where you work now,”
Jonathan said, pulling her gently and guiding her to sit on the couch.
Rosalie instinctively tried to stand up, but the strength on her shoulders made it impossible for her to move.
“You...” She lifted her head and shot daggers at him.
“Why? You don’t want to have a meal with me?” he asked with a smile.
“I really have to hurry.”
“Is that so?” Jonathan’s gaze seemed to take on a hint of danger. “If that’s the case, maybe I should just cancel these takeout
orders.”
Rosalie shuddered, suddenly realizing that the person in front of her was Jonathan.

Her mind raced as she pondered, Indeed, how could someone like Jonathan accept rejection? Canceling all these takeout
orders would undeniably result in a substantial loss for Amelia.
Moreover, if he were to target the diner again after canceling the order, Amelia’s small restaurant might go out of business
soon!”
“Is eating with you all I need to do?” she inquired, regaining her composure.
Jonathan smiled teasingly. “What else do you want to do?”
He moved his hands away from her shoulders and turned to open the takeout package on the coffee table.
His fingers were long and elegant, each joint well-defined, and even his nails had an appealing shape.
Such hands made even the act of opening a plastic bag seem graceful and captivating.
Jonathan proceeded to take out the two boxed meals and handed Rosalie a fork.