Karma Doesn’t Sleep: The Revenge Queen Rises novel Chapter 263

Will couldn’t take his eyes off the way her fitted red dress hugged her waist. It was so slim, so soft looking—he could probably wrap his whole hand around it. The curve dipped in, delicate as the petal of a rose. His gaze darkened. Slowly, he reached out, fingers drawn to the gentle arch of her waist—

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

The furious shout came out of nowhere. Before Amelia could react, a strong hand yanked her backward. She stumbled in heels she could barely stand in, her ankle twisting painfully beneath her.

The pain made her go pale, but she barely noticed. All she saw was Clive’s profile, twisted with rage, his fist cocked and ready to strike. She screamed, “Clive, stop!”

But she was too late. Clive’s punch landed squarely on Will’s face.

Will hadn’t seen it coming, and the blow hit him hard.

The dance floor was wild and crowded, but a small circle of people noticed the fight and backed away, some even taking out their phones to record. Bar drama was nothing new, but two gorgeous guys fighting over one woman? That was something people wanted to see.

“Will, are you okay?” Amelia tried to rush to Will, but Clive’s grip on her arm was unbreakable.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me.” Will tried to smile for her sake, but his eyes flicked to the red marks Clive’s hand had left on her arm. His jaw tightened. He glared at Clive and said, icy and low, “Let her go, or I’ll make sure you leave here on a stretcher.”

Clive didn’t even look at Will—his eyes were locked on Amelia, dark with anger.

She was scared, desperate, but it wasn’t for him. It was for someone else.

Jealousy and rage exploded inside Clive, burning away every bit of self-control he had left. He tore Amelia’s mask from her face, his words sharp and cruel.

“What, feeling sorry for your little lover?”

“Clive, don’t talk crap!” Amelia shot back, shaking with anger. “Just because you’re disgusting doesn’t mean everyone else is!”

Disgusting?

He’d just caught her all over another man, and she had the nerve to call him that?

Clive let out a bitter laugh, but his eyes were cold and hard. Every word he spat was meant to wound.

“So this is why you’ve been off lately. You’ve got yourself a new pretty boy, huh? Is he better than me? Seriously, you’re a mother of two—how can you be such a slut?”

He threw her kids in her face on purpose, twisting the knife, saying the worst things he could just to hurt her.

Amelia’s face turned red with anger. She trembled, but she refused to back down.

Seeing her like that gave Clive a twisted sense of satisfaction. If he was hurting, she should hurt even more.

“You bastard!”

The music had stopped. The whole bar was silent.

Clive looked up, jaw tight. His eyes were still wild, but when he met Amelia’s gaze—all he saw was disappointment, emptiness. Something inside him cracked.

It felt like someone had ripped his heart out, leaving nothing behind.

“Amelia…” He reached for her, desperate, but she was already too far away.

Will took the opportunity to shove Clive aside and stepped protectively in front of Amelia. She just gave Will a look, calm and clear, and stepped forward herself, facing Clive.

“Just like you said, I’m a slut.” Amelia’s fists slowly unclenched. There was no love in her eyes anymore—just cold, steady resolve.

“Amelia, I didn’t mean it!” Clive stammered, his voice suddenly small. “I just lost it, I—”

She cut him off, every word sharp as a slap. “Even if I am, Clive, I’d still never want you. Not now, not ever. If I had to sell myself on the street, you’d never get a shot.”

He wanted to humiliate her, to drag her down, but she was done letting him hurt her.

From now on, no matter who she was or what she did, it had nothing to do with Clive. She was finally free.