Revenge Wears My Ring novel Chapter 172

Why?

Desiree couldn’t accept this. She was supposed to be the one standing at Bennett’s side. She was the one who should have faced the storm with him, shoulder to shoulder, whenever the world turned against him.

Yet now, here she was—pinned in place by Zayden as if she were nothing more than a piece of luggage, unable to move an inch. And that plain, unremarkable Gwyneth? She got to stand openly at Bennett’s side, all because she was his assistant.

Jealousy and frustration gnawed at Desiree’s heart, sharp and relentless.

While the hall buzzed with tension and everyone harbored their own thoughts, Bennett moved.

He rose from his seat with a grace so effortless it demanded attention. His tall frame exuded a quiet, almost suffocating authority that instantly drew every gaze and camera his way.

Facing Yale, Bennett’s lips curled into that familiar, coldly mocking smile. His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut through the crowd’s noise like a knife:

“Dad,” his tone held all the outward respect the title implied, but every word landed like a blade, “after hearing Julian speak, I realize there is someone I really ought to ‘thank.’”

His stare was icy and unyielding, pinning Yale with the weight of a glacier.

“Thank you... for letting me live in this world.”

He leaned in slightly, as if sharing an intimate secret, but his words carried through the hall, chilling and clear:

“Wouldn’t you agree?”

Yale’s face twisted beyond anger, taking on the ashen, ominous hue of a storm about to break.

He couldn’t let this continue. Bennett was bold enough to cast aside all pretense, even in front of the press. There was nothing he wouldn’t do.

Under the crushing silence, Yale turned to the assembled reporters. His voice was raw but rang with undeniable authority:

“Ladies and gentlemen!” He drew a deep breath, his eyes sweeping over the lenses as if he could force them to look away. “Bennett is my eldest son—Ben. He has spent these years overseas, gaining experience and furthering his studies. He is the Locke family’s eldest and most trusted heir.”

The announcement sent another ripple of shock through the crowd.

Ignoring the storm brewing in Bennett’s eyes, Yale pressed on, his voice brooking no argument:

“He kept his identity private to avoid unnecessary trouble.” He locked eyes with Bennett, his gaze fraught with warning and command. “Bennett is one of us. He is a Locke.”

Once more, Yale addressed the press, his tone final:

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