Karma Doesn’t Sleep: The Revenge Queen Rises novel Chapter 259

The red slip dress made Amelia’s skin look almost impossibly fair, like she was glowing under the shop lights. The neckline dipped just low enough to show off her swan-like neck and delicate collarbones. She looked both sweet and dangerously gorgeous at the same time.

Diana couldn’t help staring. When did Amelia get this slim and still have such a killer figure? She had curves in all the right places, a tiny waist, those endless legs—and that face.

Without makeup, Amelia was quietly beautiful. With a little lipstick and eyeliner, though, she could stop traffic. Her eyes tilted up at the corners, mysterious and bold. Even when she looked away, she had that thing about her—like any guy would want to take his chances.

Diana shook her head. “Clive must be blind. Seriously, what was he thinking?”

Honestly, it was probably for the best. A jerk like that didn’t deserve someone as amazing as Amelia.

Amelia gazed at her reflection. The red dress, her hair in soft waves, the perfect mix of glamour and cool elegance. She looked stunning, but not in a try-hard way.

She’d always liked red dresses, but she’d only ever put one on once before. That was her first birthday after marrying Clive.

She’d picked out this beautiful red dress, slipped it on, and worked up the nerve to show him. “Clive, do you like it?” she’d asked.

He just raised a brow, gave her a long, unreadable look, and smirked. “What do you think?”

Then he walked over, casually hooking a finger under her strap.

“Amelia, you know women from the red-light district wear things like this, right?”

That sentence, coming from the man she loved, was like a slap. She wanted to disappear.

Face burning, she mumbled, “You’re right. I’ll go change...”

But Clive pulled her in, arm around her waist.

“You know I don’t mean it like that,” he sighed, sounding half bored. His hand slid down to the scar on her thigh.

It was a long scar, the one she’d gotten saving his life.

He leaned in, his voice low against her ear. “And this scar—if people see it, they’ll laugh. Didn’t you promise not to wear short dresses anymore?”

She tried to protest, “But it’s just us here—”

He pressed his thumb to her lips, his eyes soft but unyielding. “Amelia, I don’t like it either.”

It was almost funny, how the scar she got for him was the thing he hated most.

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