Karma Doesn’t Sleep: The Revenge Queen Rises novel Chapter 147

Tonight’s guest list was stacked—pretty much everyone here was worth at least a few million. That’s Alson Creek for you. Even the smallest mansions here cost a fortune. But there’s a big difference between owning expensive property and actually having that kind of cash at your fingertips.

Clive had just spent twenty million dollars in one go, basically setting the bar for the night.

And then, out of nowhere, the guy up on the second floor made a move that was more than ten times that amount.

Cameron was so stunned, he forgot himself for a second.

“No way. There’s no way. The VIP upstairs must’ve written down the wrong name! Those flowers were meant for Kristen!” He spun around, ready to march up the stairs and set things straight. But the second he hit the staircase, two rows of men in black appeared out of nowhere, silent and intimidating.

Michael was quick—he rushed up and grabbed Cameron before he could cause any trouble.

“Sorry, sorry, total misunderstanding,” Michael said, pulling Cameron back and lowering his voice. “Are you out of your mind? Didn’t you see those bodyguards? They’re armed. Even Mr. Baker doesn’t get this kind of security. If they decided to shoot you right here, do you really think your family could do anything about it?”

Cameron shut up immediately.

Clive looked up at the second floor. There was a man standing just out of the light—a tall silhouette, radiating this cold, powerful energy.

The man lifted his glass toward Clive, almost like a challenge, then tipped it over, letting all the wine spill onto the floor below.

That was pure disrespect.

Clive’s hand tightened around his own glass, knuckles turning white, but all he could do was watch as the man walked away like he owned the place.

On stage, Mr. Belfield had suddenly changed his tune. Gone was the smug attitude from earlier. Now he was all smiles, holding the jeweled rose crown with both hands as he hurried over to Amelia.

“Ms. Sadinton, you really are full of surprises!” he gushed, covering the mic as if they were sharing a secret. “Honestly, I knew you’d win from the very beginning.”

Amelia just stared at him. She’d seen plenty of people like him—always changing sides, always trying to be on top.

“Can I leave now?” she asked, her voice cool.

“Of course, this crown is yours. And you’ve also earned the chance to go upstairs—”

She cut him off, pushing the fancy rose-and-gem crown away. “I don’t want it. Give it to someone who actually cares. I’m not interested in going upstairs. And those three thousand roses—please return them to Mr. Packman.”

Even if Mr. Packman was Ryan, she didn’t need someone throwing money around for her like that.

She didn’t want anyone’s pity or their applause.

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