Karma Doesn’t Sleep: The Revenge Queen Rises novel Chapter 39

“What a mean old witch, always picking on Momma Kristen!”

Caroline arched a brow, curiosity lighting her eyes. “What’s up, Penny? Why are you calling her a witch?”

It wasn’t that Caroline cared about Amelia—she just found it odd. Penny was usually all smiles and sunshine, polite to everyone. What could’ve happened to make her call out Amelia like that?

Penny didn’t answer. She just wriggled in Caroline’s arms, her voice coming out small and grumpy. “Auntie, let’s go inside, okay?”

“Alright, alright.” Caroline grinned, scooping Penny a little closer as she headed toward the house.

Up ahead, Timmy was already strutting along the walkway, hands shoved in his pockets, looking cool as ever out in front.

Clive took Amelia’s hand and tucked it gently into the crook of his arm, guiding her through the doorway at his side.

No one noticed the sleek black car parked quietly in the shade at the end of the drive. The back window was cracked open just enough for a man to rest his hand on the edge, cigarette smoldering between long, pale fingers. Ash drifted down, scattered by the evening breeze.

Ryan sat back in the shadows, his eyes locked on Amelia’s slender figure. She leaned into Clive, looking so delicate—like a vine wrapped around him, as if he was the only thing keeping her upright.

His lashes lowered, hiding the storm brewing in his gaze.

Amelia, you really haven’t grown up at all, have you?

Francisco, the driver, could feel the chill in the air—so much that he barely dared to breathe. After a long, tense silence, he finally worked up the nerve to speak. “Mr. Packman, should we… head inside?”

Ryan glanced over at the brown paper bag tossed on the seat beside him.

A photo had slipped out, half sticking out of the bag—a man and woman in a close embrace. The guy’s face wasn’t visible, but even from behind, it was obviously Clive. And the woman, smiling like she didn’t have a care in the world, was Kristen. His own secretary.

Ryan had only agreed to Bailey’s invitation so he could give Amelia this little “gift” in person.

A sharp glint flickered in Ryan’s eyes. “So you’re saying she’s not actually blind?”

The other end hesitated. “Her eyelid muscles might be weak from lack of use, so opening her eyes could be tough at first. But with some practice, that should go away. The chance of actual blindness is almost zero.”

If Ryan had only suspected Amelia was faking it when they ran into each other at the restaurant, now he was sure—she was pretending.

City lights flashed past outside the window, neon colors flickering across Ryan’s expression as the coldness faded, replaced by confusion.

Pretending to be blind...

He lifted an eyebrow, fingers tapping thoughtfully on the armrest, his expression unreadable.

Amelia, what are you really after?