Revenge Wears My Ring novel Chapter 47

When Gwyneth stepped into the Skyward Taste private dining room, she found Julian already waiting by the window, his gold-rimmed glasses catching the dim light and casting a shadow over his expression.

The moment he saw her, he slipped on that familiar mask of gentle courtesy, striding forward to pull out her chair with practiced gallantry.

“Gwyneth, you’re here,” he greeted her softly, his fingers brushing the inside of her wrist—just as he’d done a thousand times over the past five years.

Gwyneth’s lips curved into a faint smile, but her eyes remained ice-cold. “Have you been waiting long?”

She glanced at the platter of snow crab arranged artfully on the table, the pale meat blossoming like a flower on fine porcelain.

Julian followed her gaze, his eyes warm and indulgent. “I asked the chef to prepare it. It’s your favorite, after all.”

Her smile widened a fraction as she sat down, fingers tracing the edge of her napkin. “Julian, do you remember our first date? We had snow crab, just like this.”

She lowered her eyes, studying the delicate crab in front of her. The silver fork twirled lightly between her fingers, but she didn’t take a bite.

Three years ago, on Valentine’s Day, he’d been just as tender—serving her the first bite of crab, watching her eat with that gentle concern.

Then his phone had rung. An “emergency” call had pulled him away.

She’d been left alone in the restaurant, her skin flushing, her breath growing shallow, until a waiter finally rushed her to the hospital.

Julian leaned forward slightly, his tone attentive. “Of course I remember. You always loved it. Why aren’t you eating today? Not feeling well?”

She looked up, her smile perfectly in place. “I just don’t have much of an appetite tonight.”

“That’s fine. I’ll bring you here again next time.” Julian’s eyes flickered behind the lenses of his glasses.

“Alright,” Gwyneth replied with a gentle nod.

Julian studied her composed smile, then shifted the conversation. “You’ve been at Locke Group for a while now. I should at least check in on you.”

He took a sip of sake, pretending the question was casual. “So, how’s it going? Settling in alright?”

“Not bad,” she replied, her gaze drifting to the faint mark at his collarbone—barely concealed, but unmistakable. “Actually, it’s been pretty easy.”

The sound of her knife scraping against her plate was sharp and jarring.

Julian looked up, his eyes suddenly serious. “I’ll have you transferred back soon.”

After all, she was talented, and the Harvest Group project was a mess. Queenie couldn’t handle it all on her own.

“But what about your brother?” Gwyneth’s brow creased in apparent concern, though her eyes were pure frost.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.” Julian’s frown was barely perceptible, whatever emotion he hid behind his glasses unreadable.

“Alright.” Gwyneth speared a piece of steak, her smile as graceful as ever.

Julian watched her for a moment, then said, “About that woman around my brother I mentioned last time—have you noticed her?”

“He’s been away on business. I haven’t had a chance to meet her,” Gwyneth said, her voice tinged with regret as she lowered her gaze, hiding her true feelings.

She tilted her head, adding, “But there’s a female executive assistant—your father introduced her, I think.”

She slipped away from his hand with barely a movement and opened the car door herself. “Drive safe.”

The engine hummed to life, the window slid upward, and their final glance was cut off by glass.

In the rearview mirror, Julian stood watching her for a few seconds before turning and hurrying to his own car, his posture tense with urgency.

Gwyneth pressed her foot to the gas, a cold smile playing at her lips.

Company emergency? Who did he think he was fooling?

It was obvious his little secret was about to blow up.

—

At the Locke family estate, Julian pushed open the door to find Queenie lounging on the couch, swirling a glass of red wine. Her cheeks were flushed with health—there was no sign whatsoever of a stomachache.

His frown deepened, his tone frosty. “Didn’t you say you weren’t feeling well?”

Queenie blinked at him, then padded over barefoot and threw her arms around his neck. “I just missed you, that’s all~”

She pressed close, her breath warm against his neck, carrying the scent of the perfume he liked best.

Julian didn’t move, his voice low. “So you lied to me?”

She pouted, tracing lazy circles on his chest with her finger. “Well, you went out to dinner with Gwyneth tonight. Am I not allowed to be jealous?”