The Ceo’s Convict Wife by Jennifer Mike

Chapter 9
After leaving the hospital, Carlos asked, “Mr. Youngblood, do you want to go back to the manor or...
“Head back to the western district,” Jonathan said calmly.
Rosalie’s rental home was in the western district. Carlos didn’t know how long Jonathan planned to stay in that tiny rental home.
At a traffic light intersection on their way to the western district, Carlos suddenly said, “Mr. Youngblood, Ms. Rosalie Leighton is
on the roadside.
Jonathan looked over and saw a figure sweeping the garbage by the roadside.
She was wearing fluorescent workwear, and her hair was tied in a simple ponytail. Due to the cold weather, every breath she
exhaled came with white fog.
Just then, an electric scooter sped over, seemingly rushing to catch the green light. It passed by Rosalie and grazed her leg,
causing her to tumble.
However, the driver of the electric scooter didn’t even bother stopping and proceeded to cross the road.
Both Jonathan and Carlos watched the scene unfold before them.
“Mr. Youngblood, should we find out who the driver is and hold him accountable? Carlos asked. He believed that Jonathan still
cared about Rosalie. Since Jonathan had stood up for her previously when she was plied with drinks and slapped in the club,
Carlos thought Jonathan would naturally do the same this time.
As Jonathan fixed his gaze on Rosalie, who was on the ground, Leonard’s voice suddenly sounded in his mind again.
“Remember what you said today. Never become like him...”
“I will never care about a woman like Dad. It’s just a game. Besides, I’m not Jon. Why would I care about a sanitary worker
named Rosalie?” he thought.
Jonathan looked away and spoke indifferently. “It’s none of our business.”
Carlos was stunned. He wondered, “Was I wrong to think that Mr. Youngblood cares about Rosalie?”

The red light ahead turned green, and Carlos drove forward.
Meanwhile, Rosalie’s colleague, Yulissa Blackwell, ran over and helped Rosalie up. “Rosalie, are you all right? Do you need to
go to the hospital?”
Rosalie gritted her teeth and examined her injury. Her skin didn’t tear nor bleed, but the area around her ankle that had been
grazed by the electric scooter was swollen. “It’s okay. I’ll put on some pain relief gel when I go home.”
“All right. Don’t forget to do that, and make sure to massage it. That will help to ease the swelling,” said Yulissa. Then, she began
cursing the wicked scooter rider who didn’t even check on Rosalie after hitting her.
At night, Rosalie limped back to her rental home. As soon as she entered the door, she saw a figure sitting there.
“Rosie, you’re back,” the man stood up and said.
In an instant, the coldness surrounding her body seemed to have dispersed. It turned out that all she wanted was just someone
who would wait for her at home. It didn’t matter that the house was small and shabby.
“Yes, I’m back,” she smiled gently. “You must be hungry. I bought two sets of boxed meals today. We can have our dinner once I
finish cooking soup.
“Okay.” Jonathan replied and watched her hobble to the only small table in the room and place the boxed meals on it. Then, she
turned around to the sink to wash the vegetables before cooking the vegetable soup on the induction cooker.
48 Wed,
Chapter 9
“Rosie, what’s wrong with your leg” he asked knowingly.
“I accidentally scratched it. It’s no big deal. Ill apply some pain relief gel later,” Rosalie said nonchalantly. However, her
expression shifted every time she took a step, and there was even a layer of sweat forming on her forehead.
Jonathan pursed his thin lips slightly. “Why don’t you apply it now?” he said as he reached out and pulled her over. Next, he
pulled up her trouser hem.
Immediately, he saw a noticeable lump. It was obvious even when the swollen part was hidden in Rosalie’s sock.

When he pulled the sock down, the bruised lump around her ankle came into sight.
Jonathan thought he wouldn’t care and that he could remain indifferent even if Rosalie’s leg were broken. Yet for some reason,
his chest felt stuffy and uncomfortable as he looked at her swollen ankle.
“It’s nothing serious. I’ll be fine after applying the pain relief gel Rosalie awkwardly tried to pull back her foot from Jonathan’s
hold, but his fingers firmly held onto her ankle, rendering her unable to move.
For a moment, the air was filled with silence.
“Where’s the pain relief gel?’ he asked all of a sudden.
1-It’s in the medicine box on the bedside table.”
The next moment, Rosalie let out a cry of surprise when Jonathan suddenly scooped her up and carried her to the bed. After
placing her down, he took the pain relief gel out of the medicine box.
Sitting at the side of the bed, he rested her injured right foot on his leg and removed her socks and shoes. Next, he gently
pressed on the bruised lump on her ankle.
Her bone seemed fine. As she had mentioned, it was merely an external injury. Jonathan then squeezed some pain relief gel
onto his palm and began massaging Rosalie’s ankle.
He exerted some force, but she only gritted her teeth without making a sound at all.
“Rosie, isn’t it painful?” Jonathan asked. If it were another woman, she would have cried out in pain already.
“Not really” Rosalie took a shallow breath and said, “Compared to what I’ve experienced in...” She faltered for a moment and
held back the words “in prison.” Instead, she continued, “Compared to what I’ve experienced in the past, this pain is much
milder.”
Jonathan glanced at Rosalie thoughtfully. Of course, he understood what she had left unspoken.
Even though he had merely stood by idly back when she was in prison, the Hamilton family might not have done the same.
Moreover, many were eager to curry favor with him and the Hamilton family, so her life in prison was probably far more miserable
than that of others.

“It seems that you have suffered a lot in the past,” he whispered.
“It’s all in the past, Rosalie said. After receiving the massage, she felt warmth and comfort replacing the pain on her ankle.
“Thank you, Jon. You are really a good person.” She flashed him a smile.
“A good person?” Jonathan mused, and his lips curved into a faint smile. Even those who wanted to flatter and appease him had
never described him as a “good person.” His life and actions had nothing in association with the words ‘good person.”
“Do you really think I’m a good person?”
“Of course, Jon, you’re a good person.” Rosalie spoke so confidently as if that was what she thought from the bottom of her
heart.
“Will you be disappointed if you find out one day that I’m not a good person?”