Rebirth Revenge Is Everything (Ariana) novel Chapter 655

Of course, there was also that faint, almost imperceptible glimmer of hope.

Irene's eyes remained fixed on Lambert, unblinking, until he finished the entire cup of tea. Only then did a spark of joy flicker in her gaze. Her palms were slick with cold sweat, betraying the intensity of her excitement and nervousness.

Once Lambert drained the cup, he made to leave.

But Irene stopped him.

Lambert narrowed his eyes, his gaze icy as it settled on her, as if to say, 'The tea's gone. What more do you want?' That look pierced Irene’s heart like a needle, the sting lingering for a brief moment—but she steeled herself.

Softly, she said, "Let me walk you back."

Lambert replied indifferently, "No need."

Irene bit her lip, hesitating before finally murmuring, "Then at least let me see you to the door. Next time we meet, Mr. Stone, I hope we can be friends." She met his eyes with startling frankness, though deep within them shimmered a barely concealed mist of emotion.

Lambert frowned, studying her face—so eerily similar to Ariana’s—but said nothing further.

Irene’s heart leaped with quiet delight, taking his silence as tacit approval.

Side by side, they left the private room.

But then—whether it was his imagination or not—Lambert suddenly felt his head grow heavy, a wave of dizziness washing over him. His brow furrowed, his expression darkening. He hadn’t even touched alcohol—why would he feel lightheaded? Despite the fog clouding his thoughts, his sharp instincts pieced together the truth in an instant.

Irene, watching him closely from the side, noticed his unsteadiness and quickly reached out to steady him, her voice laced with concern. "Are you all right?"

Her expression was flawless, without the slightest crack.

She seemed genuinely startled.

Lambert frowned. His voice was icy as he said, "It's nothing." With that, he shook his head slightly and pulled out his phone to call his driver, instructing him to come pick him up. Irene neither interfered nor stopped him, simply watching quietly the entire time.

It wasn’t until Lambert’s body began burning with feverish heat that Irene slowly, deliberately stepped forward at just the right moment.

Her voice was soft, laced with concern. "Lambert, are you feeling unwell? Let me take you home."

Lambert instinctively recoiled from her, yet his body betrayed him, aching to draw closer. In his dazed state, he almost mistook her for Ariana. Gritting his teeth, he bit his tongue hard—the sharp pain brought a fleeting moment of clarity.

His tone remained cold. "No need. The driver will be here soon."

Irene didn’t take offense. She merely nodded slightly and said, "Then let me help you outside so the driver can take you home."

This time, Lambert didn’t resist.

His mind was a chaotic whirl, thoughts slipping beyond his control.

Deep down, he already suspected he’d been drugged.

And the most likely culprit was Irene.

Yet he couldn’t be entirely sure. After all, it was rare for a woman to drug someone just to let him take advantage of her—such behavior was utterly reckless. If she came from extreme poverty, he might have understood. But Irene? Frankly, she had no reason to stoop so low.

So he wavered in confusion.

Was it Irene?

Or was it not?

Irene gave him a cool glance, signaling for him to leave.

The driver understood.

Irene: "Keep this to yourself. If the Madam asks, just say President Stone had too much to drink."

A flicker of hesitation crossed the driver’s face, but he nodded in the end.

He had met the Madam before.

After all, she often visited Stone Corporation, or President Stone would go to Lamari Group to see her. He had a great deal of respect for her. But his loyalty was to President Stone, and this woman’s words likely carried his orders. So despite his inner conflict, he agreed.

Irene ignored him after that, supporting Lambert as they slowly made their way toward the villa.

Rainforest Bay wasn’t just home to Lambert’s villa—Irene had one too.

Naturally, she didn’t have the keys to his place. But she had her own, right next to his. Irene had always kept a quiet watch on Lambert, gravitating toward anything connected to him.

She had bought this villa after learning he owned property here.

The driver assumed the neighboring villa also belonged to President Stone.

So when Irene guided him toward the other residence, he wasn’t surprised.

Only after the two disappeared inside did the driver finally look away. He stared ahead, torn. Logically, he knew this was just how things were—his job was to help cover for President Stone. But it still didn’t sit right with him.

In the end, he pulled out his phone and made a call.