Karma Doesn’t Sleep: The Revenge Queen Rises novel Chapter 351

She slipped her camera back into her bag and checked her phone. Nathan had messaged her—just one word.

[Retreat.]

“Thanks for your hard work, everyone. Let’s head back to the private room and keep eating,” she said.

Amelia shot Caroline one last, icy glance before turning on her heel and leaving.

She’d barely stepped off the last stair and outside when a squad of police officers stormed in, heading upstairs without hesitation.

Slipping out the back door alone, Amelia didn’t leave right away. Instead, she crossed the street and waited quietly in the shadows. It didn’t take long—soon, the police dragged four men outside. Caroline stumbled out after them, shaken and barely covered, her clothes a mess. Mrs. Salmeron was right behind her, disheveled but fiercely protective, wrapping herself around her daughter.

Suddenly, reporters burst out from every direction, cameras flashing, microphones shoved in faces. The crowd of bystanders swelled, everyone craning to see the spectacle, and the police could barely keep order.

In the chaos, Caroline’s jacket got yanked off, setting off a frenzy of camera flashes. Mrs. Salmeron dropped to her knees, shielding her daughter with her own body.

Amelia looked away, her expression unreadable.

She glanced at the camera in her bag. The real scoop—the most explosive evidence—was still with her.

Turning to leave, Amelia stepped out onto the sidewalk. That’s when she noticed a motorcycle hurtling toward her. Her instincts screamed a warning. The bike suddenly swerved, racing straight at her, and the passenger pulled a steel rod from his jacket, swinging it right at her.

Amelia’s eyes went wide.

Suddenly, a black luxury car shot out of nowhere, slamming into the motorcycle with a sickening crunch. The two men went flying, but even injured, they scrambled up. Two more motorcycles that had been waiting in the shadows darted out, picking up the men before tearing off down the street.

It all happened in a blur.

Amelia stood frozen, her blood still running cold, when the back door of the black Maybach next to her swung open. She heard that familiar voice, shaky but relieved.

“Amelia!”

She turned, stiff with shock, and saw Ryan inside, reaching his hand out to her.

He sat in the shadows, but his hand was bathed in silver moonlight, steady and warm.

For a reason she couldn’t name, her eyes stung with sudden tears. She grabbed Ryan’s hand, and he pulled her into the car in one solid motion.

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