Revenge Wears My Ring novel Chapter 208

“I… I thought you pressed it by accident just now.”

Bennett’s brows arched, and he took another step closer.

The space between them narrowed in an instant; Gwyneth could catch the clean scent of cedar mingling with a faint trace of tobacco on his coat. The sudden nearness sent her heart skittering, a flush rising uncontrollably to her cheeks.

“I’m not what?” he asked, lowering his head until his eyes were level with hers. His voice was low, magnetic, coaxing her to finish what she’d left unsaid.

Gwyneth’s nerves frayed at the unexpected proximity, but almost immediately, a flare of anger scattered her discomfort.

Why was she the one feeling guilty here?

He should be the one on edge.

So what if theirs was a marriage of convenience, with an agreement to stay out of each other’s lives? That didn’t mean he could let the entire city gossip about him and let her cousin waltz around town wearing the title of “Mrs. Boyd.”

What was that if not humiliating her?

The thought stoked her frustration. She jerked back, spine pressed against the cold car door, putting distance between them.

Chin lifted, she forced her voice into a cold, accusing edge. “Shouldn’t you be out with your new ‘girlfriend’ tonight, Mr. Boyd?”

She deliberately put air quotes around the word “girlfriend,” each syllable dripping with sarcasm.

Bennett’s eyes crinkled with amusement as he took in the contradiction—her cheeks still flushed, yet her posture bristling with righteous indignation. The corner of his mouth twitched, a quiet, magnetic laugh echoing through the empty parking garage.

“My girlfriend?” he repeated, as if savoring the phrase, gaze fixed on her, searching for cracks in her carefully controlled composure.

So this was what his always-cool wife looked like when she was jealous. Adorable, he thought, fighting the urge to smile.

Seeing the faint mockery in his eyes, Gwyneth’s indignation only burned hotter. She glared at him, practically grinding out the words: “Yes! Your ‘new wife,’ Serena. The whole city’s talking about it.”

She fished her phone from her bag, jabbing the screen until the glaring headline appeared, then thrust it toward him as if presenting irrefutable evidence.

Bennett glanced at the overanalyzed photo of himself and Serena, but there was no trace of embarrassment or panic—only a flicker of understanding and, perhaps, a hint of secret delight.

So she was truly jealous?

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