Revenge Wears My Ring novel Chapter 36

“That foolish woman wouldn’t dare lie to me. Think carefully—has anyone been in your office lately?” Julian’s brow was tightly furrowed as he loosened his tie.

“Other than the cleaning staff, I don’t think so—”

Queenie’s voice suddenly cut off.

Her lashes fluttered, as if she’d just remembered something.

A thought struck her so suddenly her heart skipped a beat.

Could it be him?

Bennett?

Just yesterday, her assistant had mentioned Bennett had come by in person to pick up last quarter’s financial reports.

Had he been keeping an eye on her all along? Was he trying to help her?

For someone in his position, getting Nimbus to design a graphic would be effortless.

Was he worried Julian might catch on to something?

The realization sent a wave of heat through her chest.

Even Bennett—who never showed the slightest interest in women—was bending the rules for her, even going so far as to rope in Nimbus for support…

The corners of Queenie’s lips twitched upward before she quickly smoothed her expression.

“Queenie?” Julian squeezed her hand. “Did something come to mind?”

Queenie’s tongue flicked across her lower lip.

“It’s nothing…” She cast her eyes down, thick false lashes throwing a fan-shaped shadow over her cheek. “Let me look into it when I get home.”

Night fell.

Gwyneth massaged her temples; it had been a long day. She still had a meeting with Stephen later about the Fletcher Group’s equity transfer.

She was just about to shut down her laptop when her phone screen lit up—

Why is he calling me?

“Hello?” She answered, unable to mask the fatigue in her voice.

“Off work already?” Bennett’s low voice came through the line, the faint sound of piano music in the background.

For some reason, the way he said “I’ll wait for you” felt heavy, as if he were finally giving voice to something he’d held back for a long time.

Nocturne Spirits.

The VIP hallway was lined with deep red carpet, like a river of blood flowing toward the private suites. For the first time, Gwyneth walked this corridor not as the owner, but as a guest.

She paused at the doorway. When the doorman opened the top-floor diamond suite, the crystal chandelier spilled light over her like a cascade of stars.

Everyone’s laughter and conversation froze mid-sentence.

A woman stood there, midnight hair tumbling over her bare shoulders, a few stray strands brushing her cheek and making her look both languid and dangerously alluring.

She wore a backless red dress that hugged her like a second skin, every curve accentuated to perfection.

“You’re here?”

Bennett’s voice slid through the air, deep and rich as a cello.

He sat on the main lounge’s loveseat, the cut of his silver-grey suit hinting at sculpted muscle beneath.

Gwyneth’s eyes caught on the black opal ring on his left pinky—a rare gem from Australia’s Lightning Ridge, just like the pink diamond he’d once given her.