Revenge Wears My Ring novel Chapter 23

Crash!

At Yale’s words, his wine glass shattered into pieces. “Enough! Do you think marriage is some kind of joke?”

Queenie’s dinner knife screeched across her plate, the piercing sound slicing through the tension in the air.

Her crimson lips pressed together so hard that a thin crack appeared. “When did this happen, Bennett? Why were none of us told?”

Bennett calmly wiped the wine from his fingers, his gaze flicking toward Gwyneth’s now-empty seat. “Do I have to inform you before I get married?”

His tone grew even colder. “And who said you could call me ‘brother’?”

The color drained from Queenie’s face. She dropped her gaze and dared not meet his eyes.

“Well, you’ve kept this under wraps, haven’t you?” Julian nudged his gold-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose, shadows flickering behind the lens, a faint, elusive smirk curling his lips. “Don’t tell me... it’s someone we know?”

Bennett looked up, meeting Julian’s eyes across the table. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

The room froze.

The restaurant’s air conditioning seemed to kick up a notch, an icy chill settling over the table as silence pressed in from all sides.

Yale’s voice finally broke the uneasy quiet.

He studied his eldest son, realizing Bennett was increasingly beyond his control. Yale’s eyes grew colder, and it was clear he was already plotting his next move.

“Find a time and bring her to the manor. I want to meet her.”

“She’s busy with a project right now. Once she wraps it up, I’ll bring her,” Bennett replied, his voice low and unyielding.

“Speaking of which,” Yale turned abruptly to Julian, “your engagement to Gwyneth has dragged on long enough.”

Julian’s silver fork trembled in his hand, but he quickly smoothed his expression into urbane calm. “Father, about Gwyneth and me—”

“What?” Yale cut him off sharply, his gaze like a dagger. “Do you have a problem with it? The 18th of next month is a perfectly fine date.”

At those words, the careful mask Queenie wore finally cracked. Her perfectly manicured nail snapped with a sharp click in her palm. “Gwyneth couldn’t even be bothered to show up for her own engagement party. She doesn’t—”

He checked his watch—nine o’clock sharp.

Straightening his tie, he pressed the doorbell.

“Open up.” His voice was rough and low.

Gwyneth was still half-asleep, barely registering the familiar sound. Was she dreaming? Who would show up at her door so early?

Annoyed, she stumbled to the door, hair tousled and eyes bleary. Standing in the doorway, she found a tall man outlined by morning light, the scent of cedar and a trace of tobacco clinging to him. His suit jacket was casually draped over his sharply defined arm.

Gwyneth rubbed her eyes, hardly able to believe it.

“You… what are you doing here?”

Her dark hair tumbled over her shoulders, lashes fluttering as she started to wake, sunlight casting a delicate arc beneath her nose.

Bennett’s gaze softened as he took in the way her hair curled at the ends, a faint, barely-there smile tugging at his lips.