Revenge Wears My Ring novel Chapter 93

Bennett tilted his head, stretching his neck, then suddenly turned to look at him, his gaze deep and unreadable.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of—” He drew out the words, his tone loaded with meaning.

“Myself.”

With that, he didn’t spare Julian another look.

A sense of unease settled in Julian’s chest, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on why.

If Gwyneth wasn’t even here, what was she doing at the hospital?

——————

The first floor lobby of Harmony Hospital was thick with the sterile tang of disinfectant, softened only slightly by the faint scent of fresh flowers.

Gwyneth had just stepped out of the internal medicine clinic, a clear plastic bag with a few boxes of cold medicine swinging from her hand. Her fingertips still tingled with the lingering chill from the exam room doorknob.

She walked at an unhurried pace, her expression weary. The fatigue from cleaning up the latest corporate disaster lingered between her brows, mixed with the irritation of being knocked down by a sudden, stubborn cold.

Hugo had gone to pick up her vitamins from the pharmacy, leaving her alone to cross the lobby, her mind wandering:

How did Bennett clock her cold so quickly, insisting Hugo accompany her downstairs to get her medicine?

Her thoughts drifted to that time her fever had spiked to nearly 104, and yet Julian had left her behind, insisting she looked fine and piling more work on her plate—while he slipped away to meet with Queenie.

Of course, she’d only learned the truth later. She shook her head at the memory.

Out of the corner of her eye, she suddenly caught sight of three figures emerging from the private elevator: Julian, Queenie, and Winston—who looked a mess, face scratched and clothes rumpled.

Just her luck.

Persistent as a bad penny.

Gwyneth smirked coldly to herself.

She didn’t break stride or even bother to avoid them. She merely shifted her shoulder, as if casually adjusting her direction, continuing through the lobby.

But Julian’s gaze was sharp as a hawk’s. He spotted her in an instant.

The sight of Gwyneth’s medicine bag and the pale, drawn look in her face popped the balloon of tension that had been swelling inside him all morning—like a pinprick, it all deflated at once.

She was here for treatment?

And that so-called husband of hers wasn’t even by her side.

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify