Revenge Wears My Ring novel Chapter 169

No!

Absolutely not!

There’s just no way Gwyneth could get the man she never did. She couldn’t even handle Julian.

The morning meeting ended on a sour note, tension thickening in the air like invisible smoke, lingering long after everyone had left.

———

Three days later, the launch ceremony for the Cloudview Resort project.

The venue was set at the heart of the project’s coastal development zone, on a sleek platform overlooking the sea.

Under a flawless blue sky, the massive project logo gleamed in the sunlight. A red carpet unfurled across the platform, flowers arranged in lavish clusters, and reporters with cameras and microphones clustered along the edges. The whole scene radiated energy, opulence, and the intoxicating scent of success.

The air was laced with the fragrances of champagne and expensive perfume, as well as a feverish excitement that could only come from victory.

Julian wore a confident, triumphant smile—days of tension and uncertainty swept away as if they’d never existed.

He leaned in, murmuring to Queenie with barely contained delight, “Preliminary numbers are in. Even better than we expected—five hundred and twenty-eight million. Queenie, that covers the four hundred million in costs and leaves us with a huge surplus!”

The sheer size of the profit washed away his last traces of anxiety; he could already see a golden future stretching out before him.

Queenie, dressed in a stunning custom gown and flawless makeup, had her arm tucked affectionately through Julian’s as they walked into the center of the event.

Tonight, she was one of the stars—the face of Harvest Group and the woman in charge of Cloudview Resort.

She wore a gracious, perfectly practiced smile as she played her part at Julian’s side, but her eyes were sharp and calculating, scanning the crowd like a radar.

When she spotted a pair entering at the far side of the venue, her smile froze for a split second, a flash of cold contempt flickering in her eyes.

Zayden, as poised as ever, was escorting Desiree on his arm. Desiree, for her part, had reclaimed her dazzling, imperious composure—her custom evening gown hugged her figure, brilliant jewels gleamed at her throat, and she held her head high, her eyes sharp and unbothered. It was as if the crisis that had nearly sunk her and the Sutton Group had never happened.

And in a way, it hadn’t. By some miracle, the Sutton Group had pulled back from the brink. The avalanche of bad press that should have destroyed them had simply vanished—quietly buried by the full weight of Locke Group’s PR machine and bottomless resources.

Watching Desiree strut in as though she’d never faced a setback, Queenie felt a wave of revulsion rise in her throat.

How shameless can you get? she thought acidly.

But what she really couldn’t understand was this: how could a woman like that still have men falling at her feet? Zayden… and even—

She didn’t dare let her mind finish the thought, her chest tightening with resentment.

What did he ever see in a woman like her?

Desiree caught the scornful, appraising look Queenie shot her.

It was Yale.

On Yale’s face was a rare smile—not one of simple pleasure, but of deep satisfaction and absolute control over the future.

He looked up at Julian, who stood on stage, brimming with pride. In Yale’s mind, there was no doubt: this was the most important milestone yet in Julian’s inheritance of the Locke Group empire.

Father and son locked eyes across the crowd. No words were needed—the silent understanding between two men on the cusp of conquering the world passed between them.

Julian drew a steadying breath, straightened his tie, and with a gleam of determination in his eyes, stepped forward, ready to announce the official launch of Cloudview Resort.

But just as he took his first step, as the emcee drew a breath to call his name—

Bang!

The grand, heavy doors at the end of the hall—symbols of success and prestige—were thrown open with a sudden, startling force.

Blinding light from the corridor spilled into the room, framing a tall, commanding figure in the doorway.

It was Bennett.

Time seemed to freeze.

All the noise—the emcee’s voice, the guests’ chatter, the clink of champagne glasses, even the faint hum of the cameras—vanished in an instant.