Revenge Wears My Ring novel Chapter 130

What was on his mind had nothing to do with justice for the Suttons. Yale wasn’t here to fight for fairness—he was here to scavenge whatever gold he could from this sinking ship.

He was already eyeing the Suttons’ remaining core assets and shares, the ones they hadn’t mortgaged to the hilt.

And as for Gwyneth…

A spark flickered in Yale’s eyes.

The girl had found her wings lately. Last time, even Bennett got dragged into her drama. She’d stirred up a storm last night and walked away not just unscathed, but with her reputation burnished. She was no longer the pliant orphan from the Fletchers, hopelessly devoted to Julian, who could be manipulated at will.

The Suttons storming in with this spectacle? It was an opportunity.

Yale sighed, his face shifting to a look of concern and pained empathy as he cut off Eleanor’s tearful complaints.

“Damian, Eleanor, I understand how you feel. Desiree… well, with something like this, anyone would be upset. But—”

He changed tack, his tone taking on the reasoned calm of an “impartial elder.”

“I’ve watched Gwyneth grow up. She’s got a stubborn streak, sure, but to suggest she’d go so far as to frame Desiree deliberately… Isn’t it possible there’s some misunderstanding?”

He looked between Damian and Eleanor, his gaze soothing.

“Gwyneth’s always been well-behaved and reasonable. Here’s what we’ll do: I’ll call her over so we can clear things up face to face. If there’s a misunderstanding, we’ll straighten it out. The Suttons are going through a tough time right now. More than ever, we need to stick together—not give outsiders something to gossip about.”

He put a pointed emphasis on “outsiders” and “stick together,” making it clear who he thought didn’t truly belong.

With that, Yale pulled out his phone and dialed Gwyneth.

She answered almost immediately, and Yale’s face blossomed into a gentle, grandfatherly smile—a warmth so practiced it was nearly fake.

“Hello, Gwyneth? It’s Yale. Are you free? Could you come over? Damian and Eleanor are here, and so is Desiree. We all… well, we’d like to talk—just to clear up a little misunderstanding.”

At that moment, Bennett was holding Gwyneth’s hand tightly.

She glanced at him, almost forgetting their interlaced fingers. Yale’s syrupy, practiced tone came through the phone, but her eyes remained icy, her expression laced with bitter irony.

A misunderstanding? Talk things over?

The Suttons had shown up, dragging a hysterical Desiree in tow. Yale was playing peacemaker in the middle, but Gwyneth could see right through him with her eyes closed.

He wanted to use her “soon-to-be daughter-in-law” status to throw the Suttons a bone—or, more bluntly, push her into admitting to something, so Yale could scoop up whatever was left from the Suttons’ collapse.

Did he expect her to play along, to be a pawn in some Locke family power swap?

Bennett had clearly gone rogue, and Gwyneth was slipping out of reach. She used to love Julian so desperately—he only had to croon a few sweet words, and she’d melt. But now? Things were different.

The plan needed to move up. Gwyneth was getting harder to control by the day, even starting to bite back.

He couldn’t afford to wait. He had to lock her down to Julian with marriage—bind her to the Locke family for good.

As long as she was their daughter-in-law, everything under her name—the Fletcher assets, and whatever resources her partnership with Bennett might bring—would eventually end up with the Lockes.

And the Suttons?

A glimmer of greed and calculation flashed in Yale’s eyes.

The Suttons were finished, but even a dying lion was bigger than a healthy dog. Especially that prime patch of land and a few core patents he’d always coveted—now was the time to swoop in for a bargain.

He could leverage the Suttons’ hatred of Gwyneth to get them to sign off on transferring their shares.

Once he’d squeezed the last drop of value from both the Suttons and the Fletchers…

A cold, triumphant smile curled Yale’s lips. In his mind, he could already see the Locke family, under his scheming, climbing over the bones of the Suttons and the Fletchers to reach new heights.

Just like what was done to the Boyds, once upon a time.