Karma Doesn’t Sleep: The Revenge Queen Rises novel Chapter 158

So that’s how it is...

Clive narrowed his eyes, letting a hint of amusement flicker across his face. This new version of Amelia, sharp-tongued and a little prickly, was a lot more interesting than before. As long as she didn’t push things too far, he actually found himself enjoying her little power plays. He was even curious to see what she’d do next.

—

Amelia headed downstairs and waited outside the office. After a few minutes, Clive’s car pulled up. He was alone, no driver this time. She hesitated, just for a second, then got into the front seat. Sitting in the back would’ve felt weird—like she was treating him as her chauffeur.

“How’s the project coming along?” Clive asked, glancing at her as he drove.

“It’s fine,” Amelia said, her tone cool. “I already called West Medicine and set up a meeting for Saturday morning. I’ll bring the proposal and talk to Mr. Packman about the partnership.”

Clive looked over at her. She was pale, with dark circles under her eyes, her skin even fairer without any makeup. It was obvious she hadn’t been sleeping—she’d been working late these past few days, all because of him.

At a red light, Clive stopped the car and reached over, wanting to take her hand. Amelia pulled away before he could touch her, her expression cold. The sleeve of her shirt slid up just enough to show a ring of ugly bruises on her wrist—the ones he’d left last night.

Clive’s eyes darkened. He lowered his voice. “Does it still hurt?”

“…It’s nothing,” Amelia muttered, tugging her sleeve down to cover the bruise.

Last night, Clive had almost crossed a line. If it weren’t for the kids—and the fact that she had zero time to deal with him right now—she would’ve called the police on him without a second thought.

Amelia turned away, staring out the window. She rolled it down a little, letting the wind rush in and sting her skin. The cold air seeped into her bones.

She followed him upstairs, ending up at a small table near the terrace and big windows. Outside, there was a sea of bamboo and wildflowers. It was a cozy spot—definitely a table meant for couples sneaking away for some privacy.

Before the manager could leave, Amelia stopped him. “Does Salmeron come here often?”

“Yes, he’s been a regular these past two years. This spot is always reserved for him,” the manager replied, keeping his polite smile firmly in place.

Amelia glanced down at the napkin folded into a rose on the table. She raised an eyebrow, her smile just a little too knowing. “And who does he usually bring here?”

The manager’s smile faltered and he hesitated, clearly unsure how to answer.

Just then, a waitress hurried over, ready to help. Before the manager could say a word, she blurted out, “Ms. Watts, you’re finally back! I found the earring you lost here last week!”