Karma Doesn’t Sleep: The Revenge Queen Rises novel Chapter 91

“……”

Amelia caught the edge of anger in Clive’s voice—so slight most people would have missed it, but not her. She paused, stunned, and then the absurdity of it all hit her. She almost laughed out loud at how ridiculous it was.

Kristen was practically living under their roof, and yet Clive had the audacity to accuse her? Unbelievable.

He’d been on his way home when Caroline called, her voice shrill and certain.

“Bro, that bitch is definitely sneaking around with some other guy! Haven’t you noticed she’s different since she woke up?”

Clive told Caroline to stop with her nonsense, but her last words stuck with him.

Amelia really had changed since she woke up...

He studied her now—same familiar face, maybe even softer than five years ago. Still, something restless twisted in his chest. He frowned, barely noticeable.

“Amelia, I want an explanation,” he said, voice colder than usual.

“……”

He really thought she’d cheat?

Amelia closed her eyes, her pale fingers digging into the bedsheet. A chill spread through her, slow and sharp.

Every time she thought Clive couldn’t hurt her any more, he proved her wrong. Every single time.

“That guy was just helping. He saw I couldn’t see, and when Caroline came after me, tried to hit me, he stepped in. He offered me a ride because he was worried she’d come back. That’s all.”

Clive didn’t look away. He was quiet, then asked, voice low, “Where did he drop you off?”

“The front gate at Baybridge University. If you still don’t believe me, there are cameras at the entrance. Go check.” Amelia forced her voice steady and wiped a tear that slipped beneath her sunglasses. “If you’re done interrogating me, I’d like to get some rest.”

She tugged off her sunglasses and tossed them aside, turning away from him and laying down. Her shoulder blades pressed against her thin nightgown, delicate and sharp. Even her hair seemed to whisper how tired she was.

Clive said nothing.

He rubbed his brow, then walked over to her.

“Sorry, Amelia. That’s not what I meant.” His voice was soft again, gentle, like always.

His hand landed on her shoulder, hot against her skin.

Amelia shivered. All she could think about was how many times these hands had touched Kristen. Nausea crept up her throat.

She could fake it with words, but not with her body. Just his touch made her want to be sick.

Once Clive went into the bathroom, she let out a shaky breath and headed into the walk-in closet. His clothes were all separated and organized.

She found his pajamas easily, but something caught her eye—tucked underneath a row of men’s pajamas was a silk nightdress, trimmed with lace, barely long enough to be called a dress at all.

Amelia let out a dry, bitter laugh. She held it up, eyeing the ridiculous length. Kristen probably couldn’t cover anything with this.

She put it back, grabbed Clive’s pajamas, and sanitized her hands before leaving his clothes outside the bathroom door. Then she crawled back into bed.

When Clive came out, she shut her eyes and pretended to be asleep. She couldn’t even look at him without wanting to throw up.

She heard his footsteps pause beside the bed.

Under the covers, her hand twisted the sheet, praying he wouldn’t touch her again.

He didn’t. He just tucked the blanket around her and left.

But Clive didn’t go straight to the study. Instead, he walked out to the terrace and lit a cigarette. The night was cool, the moon peeking out from behind the clouds, casting a pale light over his usually polished features.

He pulled out his phone and called Aiden.

“I need you to do something for me. Pull the security footage from the main gate at Baybridge University this afternoon. See if you find Amelia—when she got out of the car, everything…”