Revenge Wears My Ring novel Chapter 58

"Queenie, what the hell happened with Yardley? How did Gwyneth manage to sign him away? You told me this was all but guaranteed!" On the other end of the line, Julian, who was usually all honeyed words when he spoke to her, now let a note of fury slip into his voice.

"Julian, it was an accident," Queenie replied, her nails digging so deep into her palm that crescent marks bloomed, though her tone stayed sweet and syrupy. "I don't know what tricks Gwyneth pulled, but she clearly has some kind of history with Yardley. The two of them seemed closer than anyone realized."

There was a pause—a few seconds of heavy silence—before Julian spoke again, his voice noticeably changed. "Are you sure?"

"I saw it with my own eyes," Queenie said, a flash of cold calculation passing through her gaze. "Their relationship… it’s anything but simple. So this time, it wasn’t our pitch that failed. The problem was—" She let the sentence dangle, just long enough.

"Enough!" Julian cut her off, his tone dark and clipped. "I’ve heard enough."

When the call ended, the sugary façade on Queenie’s face shattered, leaving only twisted jealousy and rage.

Was Julian still not over that bitch?

“Gwyneth, you think you can play both sides? Cozy up to Yardley while stringing Julian along?” she spat toward the ashtray, her words dripping with venom. “Tomorrow, I’ll make sure you can’t count on either of them.”

Locke Galleria, 8:30 p.m.

The room was immaculate—everything in its place—yet beneath the polished surface, a tiny ripple of unease stirred in Gwyneth’s chest, like a pebble dropped into still water.

The memory of Queenie’s last look—spiteful, unwilling to concede—stabbed at her mind like a thorn.

That woman was never going to let this go.

Gwyneth’s pupils contracted sharply. She grabbed her phone and dialed Lance, her voice cool and rapid. “Lance, it’s me. Security for tonight’s signing—I want the highest level, no exceptions. I also need you to track Queenie’s movements since she left the studio. Find out which media outlets and paparazzi she’s been in touch with. Move fast.”

On the other end, Lance picked up on the tension immediately. “Understood, Gwyneth! I’m on it.”

She took a deep breath, her eyes sharpening with resolve.

Whatever came her way tonight, she’d meet it head-on, come hell or high water.

Locke Galleria main hall.

Crystal chandeliers scattered cold light across the room. At the table set on the red-carpeted stage, Lance stood smiling, shaking hands with Yardley for the photographers.

Down below, camera flashes sparkled like a sea of stars. The press, armed with cameras and recorders, zeroed in on this power pairing from the business and entertainment worlds.

“Mr. Dalton, what are your hopes for this partnership?” a reporter called out.

Lance lifted the mic, offering a polished smile. “Mr. Shepard’s classic artistry and Locke Group’s vision will—”

His words were cut short as the heavy double doors slammed open. A wave of chaos crashed in, loud and relentless.

“Yardley the plagiarist—get out of the scene!”

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