Revenge Wears My Ring novel Chapter 237

Bennett shifted on the couch, finding a more comfortable position. He leaned in, elbows on his knees, his gaze fixed intently on Gwyneth’s face, bracing himself for whatever she was about to say.

He could tell—she was working up to something important.

Gwyneth hesitated only a heartbeat, then, seeing how seriously he waited, she took a breath and blurted it out all at once:

“Actually, I am Nimbus.”

Her words hung in the air. For a moment, the living room fell utterly silent.

Bennett’s expression froze, surprise flickering clear in his deep-set eyes. He instinctively studied Gwyneth’s face, as if searching for some trace of Nimbus—that elusive, world-renowned designer whose work was nearly impossible to obtain.

Nimbus. The mysterious genius, celebrated internationally, who no one seemed able to track down.

And all along, she was his wife?

It was a possibility he had never even considered.

But the shock, sharp as it was, dissolved almost instantly—like a pebble tossed into deep water, vanishing beneath the surface. A warm, gentle smile replaced it. His lips curved upward, pride softening his features.

“So that’s how it is.”

His voice was low, rich with delight, and full of understanding.

“No wonder you’re my wife.”

His reaction was nothing like what Gwyneth had braced for. No questions, no doubts—just pure acceptance and a barely concealed glow of admiration.

All the explanations she’d prepared suddenly became useless. Instead, her cheeks flushed at his unabashed, almost possessive, “my wife.” She could feel the heat rising, a faint blush coloring her face.

She didn’t even know why she had to tell him. Maybe it was simply that she didn’t want to keep secrets from him anymore. Especially with what was coming—she’d need his help for that little show.

“At the gala,” Gwyneth said, pulling herself together. Her eyes shone, serious and clear, but with a hint of conspiratorial mischief. “I’ll need you to do something for me.”

Bennett’s brows lifted, curiosity piqued.

This was the first time she’d ever so openly asked for his help. The novelty of it sent a strange, happy satisfaction swirling through him. It felt as if, finally, he’d truly been invited into her world.

He answered at once, his voice warm and teasing:

“What do you need? Just say it.”

He wondered what it could be—his fiercely independent wife rarely asked anyone for anything.

Gwyneth leaned closer, her subtle perfume enveloping him. She cupped her hand to his ear and whispered a few quick words.

Bennett listened, head tilted toward her. As she spoke, surprise flashed in his eyes, then gave way to amusement and a bright, gleaming excitement. He turned to look at Gwyneth, her face alight with secret glee, and couldn’t help but laugh—a low, affectionate sound, promising total complicity.

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