Revenge Wears My Ring novel Chapter 215

Serena’s sudden, no-nonsense question brought the conversation to a standstill. The atmosphere in the private dining room tightened, as if someone had turned down the oxygen.

Queenie’s smile faltered, caught off guard by Serena’s directness. Instinctively, she glanced at Julian.

Julian adjusted his glasses, a flicker of surprise passing behind the lenses, replaced almost immediately by a deeper, more playful wariness. He enjoyed dealing with sharp, straightforward people—it made things interesting, but also meant they were harder to fool.

He let out a low, easy laugh, breaking the brief silence. His tone stayed warm, but he dropped any pretense of beating around the bush. “Ms. Fletcher, you certainly don’t waste time. In that case, I won’t either.”

Leaning in slightly, Julian’s gaze sharpened, suddenly carrying a subtle pressure. “I do have a small favor to ask of you. Or perhaps… there’s potential for us to pursue some mutual interests.”

“Oh?” Serena arched an eyebrow, feigning curiosity even as she raised her guard. Mutual interests? What could she possibly have in common with him? Bennett? Gwyneth?

Julian’s voice dropped, almost conspiratorial, drawing her in with a tone that was both intimate and subtly persuasive. “But there’s no rush, Ms. Fletcher. We have plenty of time. Perhaps we’ll become friends yet.”

Something about Julian’s words made Serena realize he was every bit as dangerous as Bennett—if not more so. Still, she found herself growing more intrigued by the minute.

———

Fletcher Group.

CEO’s Office.

Morning sunlight streamed through the blinds, casting crisp bands of light across the desk.

Gwyneth sat behind her expansive office desk, eyes fixed on her computer screen. The digital contract Ziggy had sent stared back at her, but the words blurred together. Her fingertips drifted absently over the mouse, not absorbing a single line.

She had to admit, that man—by the most blunt and forceful means possible—had managed to chip a tiny crack in her ice-cold defenses.

A polite knock on the door snapped her out of her trance.

Gwyneth masked any stray emotions, restoring her usual cool composure. “Come in,” she called.

To her mild surprise, Serena entered, a folder in hand. She crossed the room to the desk, her tone respectful but self-assured. “Ms. Fletcher, here’s the revised project proposal you asked me to improve. I’ve finished the updates. Please take a look.”

Gwyneth studied her cousin for a moment before accepting the file and flipping through its contents. The further she read, the more her surprise grew.

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