Revenge Wears My Ring novel Chapter 185

Gwyneth caught, in that split second, the flash of shock on Queenie and Desiree’s faces, followed by a flicker of barely concealed disappointment and venom—like a plan gone awry.

Especially Queenie. The look she shot over was so icy, it practically dripped with malice.

Yet, despite everything, an inexplicable sense of dread clung to Gwyneth. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what was wrong, but she knew something was. If it wasn’t the wine, then how did she explain those expressions? Did they have another card up their sleeves?

The whole night felt off—there was something sinister lurking beneath the surface.

“Oh! Shattered glass means good luck, right? Just a little accident—nothing to worry about! Mr. Boyd’s fine, that’s what matters!”

Zayden immediately jumped in, laughter forced and overeager, trying to sweep away the tension thickening the air. “Let’s not let this ruin the evening! Come on, everyone, keep enjoying yourselves!”

The party limped back to life, noise and laughter resuming, but the crack in the atmosphere was irreparable.

Desperate to salvage his pride, Zayden dragged a pale, shaken Desiree over to Bennett, plastering on a sycophantic smile. “Mr. Boyd, let me formally introduce Desiree, my girlfriend. You know her, right? I heard she used to be your assistant.”

He emphasized Desiree’s past connection to Bennett, his tone probing for a reaction.

Bennett’s gaze swept over Desiree with cold indifference, as if she were nothing more than a piece of furniture. “Mm.” He didn’t even bother with a second glance.

The utter disregard cut Desiree to the quick. Paraded around like a showpiece by Zayden, then dismissed so completely by Bennett—humiliation left her rigid and trembling.

She stared at Bennett, unable to hide the longing and bitterness in her eyes, completely forgetting Zayden at her side.

Zayden saw it all. Jealousy and anger surged in him, hot and uncontrollable. Abruptly, he dropped his arm from around Desiree and, raising his voice so everyone could hear, snapped with open contempt, “Enough. You’re done here. Go wait for me in the hotel room.”

Desiree’s mind went blank; the blood drained from her face.

He—he was actually ordering her away like some call girl, right in front of Bennett, right in front of all these people?

The shame crashed over her like a tidal wave. She bit down hard on her lip, nails digging into her palm, fighting the urge to scream.

Hatred twisted inside her, dark and poisonous, snaking out to entwine everyone in the room.

She hated them. She hated every single person here.

But most of all, she hated Gwyneth.

If not for her scheming, she’d still be the old Desiree.

Rage flared in her eyes as she shot Gwyneth a venomous glare, then flicked her gaze to Queenie, who looked away, her eyes furtive.

Finally, with Zayden barking at her to hurry up, Desiree stumbled out of the ballroom like a soulless puppet.

A thick, sticky sense of calculation hung over the room, smothering the sparkle of champagne and the music—leaving only a lingering, nauseating stench.

Gwyneth felt her chest tighten, panic rising.

She slipped over to Bennett and murmured, “I need some air.”

He gave a slight nod, signaling to a nearby bodyguard to keep watch.

Gwyneth stepped out onto the terrace that connected to the ballroom. At the edge was a vast infinity pool, its surface shimmering a cold, eerie blue beneath the night sky.

The chill in the breeze helped settle her nerves a little. She leaned against the railing, gazing out at the city lights, trying to quiet the anxiety gnawing inside her.

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