Rebirth Revenge Is Everything (Ariana) novel Chapter 452

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Beverly had been back for quite some time now.

During this period, she had carefully observed Ronaldo's routines. He came home every day, but always late—likely tied up with business engagements.

In the meantime, Beverly had considered reaching a temporary truce with him.

She had even approached him with a smile, trying to win his favor.

But Ronaldo had merely glanced at her with a detached expression, his mocking gaze seeming to say, 'There's no need to pretend in front of me.'

At that moment, Beverly's face froze, her smile stiffening into an awkward mask.

Fortunately, Ronaldo hadn't publicly humiliated her, so things could still be worse.

After all, nothing now was as unbearable as the life she had endured abroad.

If she had survived those days, what was this? Besides, she wouldn’t stay like this forever. She had finally realized that her past defeat at Ariana's hands was largely due to her own arrogance and foolishness. Back then, she had repeatedly provoked Ariana despite the glaring power imbalance.

In the end, even Lambert had turned against her, and everyone else had sided with Ariana...

But things were different now.

She understood her mistakes. And so, she had changed her strategy. Her first goal was to reclaim the Lawrence family from Ronaldo’s control and secure her rightful position as the heir to the Lawrence Group. Only then would she have the means to stand against Ariana.

One way or another, she wouldn’t rest until Ariana was utterly destroyed—her current misery was, in large part, that woman’s doing!

And she would *never* let her get away with it.

At this moment, Beverly was seated on the sofa, her mother, Mrs. Lawrence, beside her. Their eyes met, exchanging a silent understanding only the two of them shared.

Just then, a maid approached with tea intended for Mr. Lawrence. Mrs. Lawrence rose gracefully, signaling for the maid to hand it to her instead. The maid, not daring to disobey, complied.

With the teacup in hand, Mrs. Lawrence glided over to her husband, her smile warm and practiced. "You should drink less tea," she said gently. "Too much might keep you up at night." Ever since Beverly's troubles began, Mr. Lawrence had grown distant toward his wife. Left with little choice, Mrs. Lawrence had resorted to currying his favor—anything to avoid being cast aside.

Even when he passed the company to Ronaldo, she bit her tongue, swallowing her grievances to preserve whatever goodwill remained between them. And slowly, her efforts bore fruit—Mr. Lawrence's demeanor toward her softened.

Beverly watched her mother for a moment before turning to her father. Her eyes flickered with calculation before she stepped forward and abruptly bowed. Her voice was hoarse, laced with uncharacteristic humility. "Dad... I'm sorry. I know I’ve caused you nothing but trouble these past few years. I don’t even know what to say—this is all I can do. Please forgive me." She bowed again, deeper this time.

When she straightened, her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

This version of Beverly was one Mr. Lawrence rarely saw.

The Beverly he knew was proud, willful—never one to apologize, let alone bow her head. Even to her own father, she had clung to her stubborn defiance, refusing to admit fault, no matter the mistake. Back then, he had indulged her, never pressing the issue.

Now, faced with this unrecognizably subdued daughter, a pang of sorrow struck him.