Revenge Wears My Ring novel Chapter 124

She struggled to lift her heavy eyelids, and the first thing she saw was a pair of deep, cold eyes—like the surface of a midnight lake.

It was Bennett.

She had no idea when he’d arrived. His brow was furrowed, and the usual distant indifference on his handsome face had vanished, replaced by a look she’d never seen before—a mix of worry and a chilling anger.

But that anger wasn’t aimed at her. It burned past her, directed squarely at the tightly closed door of the suite behind her.

“Bennett…” Her lips parted, but her voice was hoarse and scratchy.

“Don’t talk.” Bennett’s voice was low, brooking no argument, but his hands were steady and unexpectedly gentle.

He immediately noticed the confusion lingering in her eyes, the way she fought to stay conscious, and the subtle, uncontrollable tremor in her body.

Without a word, he shrugged off his tailored charcoal jacket and wrapped it around her fragile shoulders in one smooth motion.

The jacket was warm from his body, carrying a clean, subtle scent of cedar and tobacco. It enveloped her completely, shielding her from the chill of the air conditioning and, oddly, making her feel safe—almost comforted.

“Can you walk?” he asked softly, his gaze never leaving her pale but stubborn face.

Gwyneth drew a shaky breath, trying to summon some strength, but her legs were weak and numb; any defiance she’d mustered earlier had already drained her last bit of energy.

All she could do was give the smallest shake of her head, her eyes flickering with helplessness and embarrassment.

Bennett didn’t hesitate for a second. He slipped his arm beneath her knees and around her back, lifting her effortlessly into his arms.

“Ah!” The sudden feeling of weightlessness made Gwyneth gasp, and she instinctively clung to his neck.

The movement brought her closer to him than she’d ever been. Beneath his dress shirt, she could feel the steady heat of his chest and the strong, rhythmic beat of his heart.

Her face flushed, though she couldn’t tell if it was the drugs or something else entirely.

Bennett carried her straight out, swiping his key card to enter the suite next door—one he’d already prepared.

The door closed quietly behind them, shutting out the rest of the world. He lowered her onto the soft bed with a careful tenderness, as if afraid she might shatter.

But just as he started to straighten up and step away, Gwyneth, dazed and desperate, clung to him like she was grabbing a lifeline, her arms locking around his neck.

“Mmm…” She whimpered, her feverish cheek nuzzling against the cool skin of his neck. Her voice was small, pleading, and softer than he’d ever heard—almost like a child seeking comfort. “I want…”

Every muscle in Bennett’s body tensed, strung tight like a bow about to snap.

He froze. Her warm breath and the soft brush of her skin sent a jolt of electricity racing through him.

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