Returning with Triple Treasures: My CEO Husband Is Obsessed novel Chapter 218

Chapter 218 The Watcher

Chapter 218 The Watcher

“No.” Jacob paused, his expression strained. “I could try it for you first, if that helps?”

The offer felt hollow–just boiling the medicinal brew had turned his stomach from the smell alone.

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But Jacob was only trying to be courteous. He knew how particular Xavier was about cleanliness; he’d never drink something someone else had already sipped.

To his surprise, Xavier nudged the bowl toward him.

Jacob swallowed thickly. After a long beat, he forced himself to lift the bowl, bracing for the worst.

“You don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to.”

Xavier’s tone was even, but to Jacob it sounded like thinly veiled impatience. His hand shook slightly as he brought the bowl to his lips and took a quick gulp.

The moment it hit his tongue, he clamped a hand over his mouth to keep from spitting it back up.

“Well?”

Xavier watched him closely, his voice edged with something like tension/

Jacob fought down a wave of nausea. “It’s… okay. Pretty strong stuff.”

Xavier pressed further. “Describe the taste.”

“Bitter. Sour, kind of. And a little astringent.”

Jacob was telling the truth–except it wasn’t just a little. It was a lot.

“Nothing else?” Xavier studied him, a probing sharpness in his gaze.

Jacob suddenly felt like a specimen under observation.

He shook his head, confused. What else was he supposed to notice?

“Don’t you think…” Xavier leaned in slightly, brow furrowed.

Jacob instinctively tilted his head closer.

But Xavier cut himself off

“Forget it.” He waved a dismissive hand. “You can go.”

Was it just in his head?

He’d been tasting a metallic tinge in his mouth all day and assumed it came from the medicine.

If that wasn’t it… was his sense of taste fading?

Jacob didn’t dare ask. He just murmured, “Yes, sir.”

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11:57 am

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Chapter 218 The Watcher

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Xavier handed him a stack of folders. On top was the Whitman family file.

Jacob hesitated, then ventured, About the Whitmans… do we really need to go this far?”

He regretted it instantly. Xavier’s eyes darkened, and the room seemed to chill around them.

“I just meant… the Whitmans have ties to the Moore family going way back–People might see this as overly harsh.”

Jacob wiped a cold sweat from his temple, choosing his words carefully.

He really needed to learn when to stay quiet.

But watching Xavier dismantle the Whitmans step by step was enough to send a shiver down anyone’s spine.

This wasn’t just a takeover–it was an eradication.

History? Public opinion? Xavier had stopped caring about any of that by the time he was five.

Xavier let out a low, humorless laugh, stood, and walked to the floor–to–ceiling window. His gaze drifted into the deep night outside.

*****

On a wooded slope just beyond the villa grounds, a black sedan sat parked beneath the trees.

In the back seat, a pair of gloved hands slowly adjusted a set of binoculars.

They were aimed directly at Isabella’s bedroom window.

The moment the lights inside went out, the binoculars lowered./

The driver glanced into the rearview mirror. The man in the back wore a tailored black suit. Even with a mask covering the lower half of his face, the youthful, sharp lines of his features were unmistakable.

“It’s been a while since you came around. First time at this property. Planning something new?”

The man paused at the driver’s question, then chuckled softly. “Not so much a plan… let’s call it curiosity. I’m interested in seeing the calm before the storm–the warmth before everything falls apart.”

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“Poetically put,” the driver replied with an uneasy laugh. “But my employer is growing impatient. I’d advise moving forward with your… intentions… sooner rather than later.”

He paused, then added with deliberate emphasis, “Quill.”

Quill’s lips curved faintly behind the mask, his eyes gleaming with something like amusement.

*****

The next morning, Xavier had left for Moore Group headquarters early, leaving only Isabella and Skyler at the breakfast table.

Xavier really was the type to work himself into the ground if no one stopped him.

Isabella was simmering. Had she known, she would’ve kept him on that IV a little longer–at least then he’d have been forced to rest a few days.

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