Revenge Wears My Ring novel Chapter 189

The room was empty.

Only the three ornate incense burners remained, dutifully exhaling hazy, rose-colored smoke into the stifling air. The sickly-sweet, cloying scent of aphrodisiac hung so thick it was almost nauseating.

Shards of broken wine glasses littered the floor, along with scattered papers. The king-sized bed was a mess, tangled sheets and pillows strewn about. But Bennett—who was supposed to be here—was nowhere to be found.

“What’s going on? Where is he?!”

All the color drained from Desiree’s face. The carefully crafted script she’d rehearsed was in shambles—shock and a creeping thread of panic seized her.

Everything had been perfect. The drug was strong—there was no way Bennett could have just walked out on his own.

Could it have been Gwyneth?

How could that woman have moved so fast?!

Desiree’s eyes darted around the room, suspicion and uncertainty battling across her face as her mind raced for a solution.

Then, in the midst of her frantic thoughts, a force slammed into her from behind—a man, reeking of whiskey, pressed himself close, his burning arms clamping tightly around her waist.

Desiree froze, then a surge of wild delight shot through her.

It was Bennett.

The drug must have kicked in, and he’d been hiding in the shadows, waiting for her?

The idea made her relax, even lean back into the feverish embrace. Her voice softened into a sultry purr, satisfied and sweet, as she spoke:

“Bennett... I knew you felt something for me. I’ve been waiting for you. I never wanted to be with Zayden, I was forced into it!”

She felt the arms around her stiffen, the grip loosening a little—but she didn’t notice. If anything, it just convinced her further that the drug and her affection had him caught in their net, struggling but unable to break free.

She continued, her tone thick with wounded longing:

“Do you know, Bennett? From the moment I first saw you at that party, I fell for you—completely. But you never even looked at me... Why Gwyneth? What makes her so special? She’s just a secretary! She must have something on you, right? Tell me, I can help you.”

As her words grew more fervent, Desiree spun around, winding her arms around the man’s neck like a snake, eyes closed in a desperate, almost sacrificial surrender, leaning in for a kiss:

“Bennett, I love you...”

But the cold, predatory scent she expected from Bennett was nowhere to be found.

Instead, she was hit by a sharp mix of cheap cologne and alcohol.

Desiree’s eyes snapped open.

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