Revenge Wears My Ring novel Chapter 85

The new chairman’s office was pristine—spacious, flooded with afternoon light, the city’s skyline stretching out beneath the massive floor-to-ceiling windows.

Gwyneth stood at the glass, fingertips tracing its cold, flawless surface. The air still carried traces of disinfectant and fresh furniture—strangely familiar, yet undeniably foreign.

She pressed the intercom, her tone level and unwavering. “This is Gwyneth. Bring this quarter’s financial statements to my office. Immediately.”

There was a pause on the other end, then a woman’s voice, deliberately drawn out, with a tone both affected and laced with mock concern:

“Oh—sorry, Ms. Fletcher. Winston already reviewed and signed those reports himself. They’ve been sent to the archives at headquarters. If you want to see them now, well… the process might be a bit complicated. Maybe you could wait a couple of days? Until the records department sorts things out? Or… I could ask him for you?”

She spoke as though Winston still ran the place.

Gwyneth’s fingers tightened around the receiver, though her gaze remained calm and unflinching. She could picture Madeline—Winston’s infamous protégé, notorious for her charm and cunning—putting on that mask of feigned helplessness, her eyes glinting with barely concealed disdain and challenge.

So this was their welcome—an immediate test.

Clearly, Winston hadn’t just hollowed out Fletcher Group over the years; he’d peppered the company with his loyalists, especially in the most sensitive positions.

A secretary, bold enough to deflect her—the new chairman—using Winston’s name and so-called “procedures”?

Gwyneth didn’t lose her cool. Instead, she let out a soft, almost imperceptible laugh. The sound cut through the line, cold and sharp enough to make Madeline flinch on the other end.

“Madeline.” Gwyneth’s voice was quiet, each word crisp—impossible to ignore. “Let me be perfectly clear: I want every financial statement for this quarter on my desk today. That includes the original receipts, audit drafts, the final version signed by Winston, and every single copy from the finance center that hasn’t been archived yet. All of it. Complete.”

Her tone was even, but it pressed down with a weight far more suffocating than a shout.

“Do you not understand what ‘immediately’ and ‘all’ mean?” She paused, her voice suddenly icy. “Or do you need me to come down to the finance center myself and fetch them?”

For a moment, there was absolute silence.

Madeline’s practiced pout and hidden smugness vanished; she felt the blood drain from her cheeks.

Damn it.

The old man warned her this niece was trouble. She hadn’t believed it—until now.

“I’ll go check with the finance department, Ms. Fletcher.” Madeline’s voice was tight, teeth clenched, but she managed to keep it professional.

Gwyneth ended the call with a click, no hesitation.

She sank into the leather chair behind her desk, the cool touch grounding her. Tapping her fingers on the polished surface, she eyed the empty desktop. Madeline was just the first little fish to surface.

Her attitude was a perfect snapshot of the rot festering inside the company.

If the finance center was anything like this, she was looking at a far bigger—and more tangled—mess than she’d imagined.

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