Revenge Wears My Ring novel Chapter 126

Or maybe, he never had those kinds of feelings for her in the first place?

But then, what about that night…

The thought unsettled her in a way she couldn’t explain, overtaking even her anger at Desiree and Queenie.

A faint sting shot through the back of her hand where the IV had been removed, and she instinctively curled her fingers.

———

Downstairs in the banquet hall, crystal glasses clinked as the evening’s festivities wound down, but beneath the fading revelry, a strange tension simmered in the air.

Queenie hovered at the edge of the crowd, checking her watch every few seconds before glancing anxiously toward the elevator.

Why hadn’t Desiree come down yet?

Where was the big “affair caught in the act” they’d planned?

Her calls went unanswered, texts ignored—everything was slipping out of control.

Clusters of guests were already saying their goodbyes. Jeff and his wife were getting ready to see people out, and Queenie felt her heart sink.

No. Absolutely not.

She couldn’t just let it end like this.

Even if Desiree had dropped the ball, she’d make sure to drag Gwyneth’s name through the mud.

Her eyes swept across the room and quickly found Julian, who was surrounded by a handful of guests raising their glasses. He looked tired of the attention, a hint of irritation in his brows.

Queenie drew a deep breath, her expression instantly shifting to panic and distress as she rushed over.

“Julian!” She grabbed his arm, her voice trembling dramatically, the hint of tears enough to draw everyone’s attention. “Julian, something’s wrong! I… I think I just saw a strange man go into Gwyneth’s room.”

She pitched her voice just loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.

The previously lively corner fell abruptly silent. Every eye in the vicinity turned toward Queenie and Julian.

Julian’s brow tightened. He shook off Queenie’s hand, his tone sharp with annoyance—and a flicker of something darker. “Queenie, what are you talking about?”

“It’s true!” Queenie’s tears came on command, her performance flawless.

“I walked Gwyneth back to her room so she could rest. As soon as she lay down, I left. But just as I reached the elevator, I saw this shifty-looking man swipe a keycard and slip into her room. And then… I swear, I heard some very strange noises coming from inside…”

She trailed off, her face a picture of worry and embarrassment, as if the details were too shameful to speak aloud.

Her words hit the room like a stone thrown into still water.

“What?!” Mr. Jeff’s face darkened, his authoritative gaze fixed on Queenie. “Queenie, didn’t you say Gwyneth was just feeling unwell and needed to rest? How could a man get in there?”

Queenie shrank back, looking thoroughly frightened, her voice breaking. “Jeff, I don’t know! I swear, I just helped Gwyneth to her room and left once she fell asleep… Julian called me, so I came down. I never expected…”

She looked at Julian, her eyes wide and pleading, the picture of helplessness.

Murmurs and judgment spread like wildfire, faces lighting up with shock, curiosity, and barely disguised malice.

With her melodramatic act, Queenie had whipped the guests into a frenzy, casting Gwyneth as the scandalous center of attention.

Julian’s face was ashen, Queenie’s words cutting into him like poisoned barbs.

A “strange man”? “Strange noises”?

Gwyneth?

The woman who had always seemed cold, proud—and devoted only to him?

How could she? How dare she?

A furious sense of betrayal and twisted possessiveness surged through him, drowning out his last shred of doubt.

Queenie stayed kneeling on the floor, head bowed, shoulders shaking with sobs. But at the corner of her mouth, unseen by anyone, a cruel, triumphant smile flickered.

Julian turned to look at her.

This was bad.

His voice was low and commanding, brooking no argument.

“What are you waiting for? Show me the way!”