Revenge Wears My Ring novel Chapter 238

In the real world, a lavish charity gala was unfolding in perfect sync with the online auction. The air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and the soft rustle of evening gowns. Crystal glasses clinked as the city's elite—captains of industry, socialites, and power brokers—mingled beneath the chandeliers.

They murmured quietly in clusters, but their eyes kept drifting to the massive screen at the center of the hall. Live updates flashed across it: the latest bids streaming in from the auction taking place just a click away.

Julian’s arrival caused a subtle ripple through the crowd.

Whispers flitted from one group to another:

“Locke Group’s here… Looks like they’re determined to win this one.”

“Competing with his resources? That’s a tall order…”

He’d barely had a chance to greet a few acquaintances when a hush swept over the entrance.

Gwyneth had arrived.

She wore a simple black evening dress—nothing ostentatious, but she commanded attention with ease. No elaborate jewelry, yet somehow, every gaze seemed to find her.

Queenie spotted her immediately, envy and a sense of superiority flickering in her eyes. Clinging more tightly to Julian’s arm, she tilted her chin and spoke in a voice just loud enough for half the room to overhear, the concern in her tone undercut by open mockery:

“Oh? What brings you here?”

She eyed Gwyneth up and down, as if she were something that didn’t belong at such an event.

“These kinds of galas… Maybe it’s best not to pretend you belong. If you can’t make a decent donation later, it’ll be rather embarrassing, wouldn’t it? Trust me—do yourself a favor and head home.”

Gwyneth paused, her expression cool as her gaze swept over Queenie’s smug little smile, then rested on Julian’s arm, which Queenie clung to like a lifeline. The whole scene struck her as almost comical.

A faint smile touched Gwyneth’s lips. Her voice was crisp and calm. “Whether I can afford it or not is none of your concern.”

Her eyes fixed sharply on Queenie. “You’d do better to focus on yourself.”

Julian frowned, stepping forward with that patronizing, would-be-reasonable tone he’d mastered. “Gwyneth, listen to me. There’s no need for you to get involved tonight.”

He paused, letting his gaze drift over her with a hint of condescension, then turned to Queenie, his confidence swelling.

“In terms of connections, Queenie actually knows Nimbus personally. You can’t compete with that. And as for resources… Fletcher Group isn’t in the same league as Locke Group. Don’t be naïve about how this works.”

Gwyneth almost laughed out loud when he said, “Queenie knows Nimbus personally.” Really? That was news to her. Since when did the real Nimbus—the actual person, standing right here—not know about this supposed friendship with Miss Queenie? And yet here Queenie was, using it as her trump card.

What an utterly brazen lie.

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