Revenge Wears My Ring novel Chapter 315

Julian’s face drained of color, shifting from ashen to chalk-white in seconds. His grip on the edge of the podium was so tight his knuckles stood out, white and sharp, betraying the effort it took to keep himself together.

He forced himself to swallow the shock and the creeping sense of doom rising in his chest, struggling to maintain composure. Still, his voice cracked with tension and anger as he spat out:

“Bennett! What the hell do you think you’re doing? You’re not welcome here to spread baseless rumors! The Aster Project was awarded to Locke Group through a fair and competitive process. The contracts are signed—what gives you the right to make wild accusations?”

“Fair? Competitive?”

Bennett let out a low, humorless laugh, thick with scorn, the sound echoing through the hall.

He didn’t bother to get up. Instead, he lounged lazily in his chair, raised one hand, and snapped his fingers.

His assistant, standing behind him, understood immediately. She stepped forward, connected her laptop to the conference hall’s main projector, and, within seconds, the Locke Group’s glossy promotional video blinked off the screen.

In its place, a stark, official statement from the real owners of the Aster Project—Mr. Ford’s European K-S Group—appeared in bold letters.

The statement was clear and devastating: The so-called “Memorandum of Understanding” with Locke Group had been a grave misunderstanding. Locke Group was never granted any exclusive or preferential rights. Worse, K-S Group had never received the massive security deposit Locke Group claimed to have paid.

The date on the statement? Barely an hour ago.

The room erupted.

Photographers hammered their camera shutters, desperate to capture the moment the world turned upside down.

Every guest stared, open-mouthed, whispering in disbelief. Who could have guessed that this grand celebration would turn into a public execution for Julian and Locke Group?

Only now did Bennett rise from his seat. He straightened his suit jacket, his gaze icy and unflinching as he stared down the ashen, broken man on stage.

It finally hit Julian: Bennett’s recent inaction had all been a ruse.

From the moment he’d set his sights on the Aster Project, he’d been walking straight into a trap Bennett had meticulously laid for him.

Every “inside tip,” every key contact, even his triumphant “signed contract”—all of it, every step, had unfolded exactly as Bennett intended.

The Aster Project, from start to finish, had been a poison pill crafted just for him.

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