Revenge Wears My Ring novel Chapter 231

Gwyneth didn’t slow her pace, but her heartbeat kicked up half a beat, sharp and insistent.

She gripped the strap of her purse a little tighter, eyes darting—casually, she hoped—over the gaps between the cars and into the pockets of shadow.

No one.

Just rows of cold, silent cars and the looming, concrete support columns.

Was she imagining things?

Had last night’s confrontation with Julian rattled her so badly that she was now jumping at shadows?

She drew a steadying breath and quickened her steps, determined to shake off the uneasy feeling dogging her heels.

But the closer she got to the elevator, the worse it became—that prickling sense of being watched, growing more intense, more invasive by the second.

It was as though a real, tangible gaze clung to her back, cold and unblinking, making her skin crawl.

Not her imagination.

And not just one person.

A chill clarity swept through her—she was being hunted.

Somebody was getting reckless.

That thought had barely formed when everything changed.

From the darkness between the cars and behind the green emergency exit, five figures burst out like ghosts, moving fast and silent, blocking her path ahead and behind—surrounding her.

At their head was a woman, flanked by four rough-looking men with hard eyes and the swagger of street thugs.

Gwyneth’s gaze sharpened, and when she caught sight of the woman’s face, her eyebrows quirked in surprise.

Desiree?

She still hadn’t given up?

Gwyneth had assumed that after last time, Desiree would’ve disappeared for good.

Desiree stared at Gwyneth, standing alone in the center, and let out a sharp, twisted laugh that echoed through the empty garage, chilling in its shrillness.

Her expression twisted, her eyes brimming with venomous envy—like she wanted to tear Gwyneth apart with her bare hands.

“Gwyneth!”

Desiree’s voice cracked with a manic, high-pitched edge.

“Do you have any idea how much you’ve ruined my life?!”

She stepped closer, eyes wild.

Desiree snapped, her voice raw, eyes blazing with tears and rage.

“What do you know?! You don’t understand how much I loved him! Why would he even look at you, not me? What do you have that I don’t?!”

She didn’t wait for Gwyneth’s answer. With a wild, triumphant sneer, she gestured toward the entrance.

“I’ve locked down the garage—maintenance signs are up, doors are sealed! Most people are upstairs at work right now. No one’s coming down here. Security won’t be by for a while, either!”

Gwyneth glanced over—sure enough, the garage entrance was blocked, a “Closed for Maintenance” sign hanging beside the lowered gate.

The whole B2 level was eerily quiet. Just them and the cold, empty cars.

Desiree’s laughter turned shrill, unhinged.

“Gwyneth, I saved something special just for you today. There’s nowhere to run!”

She finished with a twisted smile, then snapped her fingers.

The four thugs, unable to contain themselves any longer, lunged at Gwyneth from all sides, their dirty hands reaching for her arms, intent on pinning her down.

But what happened next was nothing like what they’d expected.

As the men rushed her, Gwyneth didn’t panic. Instead, her smile deepened—a slow, mocking smirk.

She even took her time slipping off her fitted blazer, tossing it onto the hood of a nearby car, as if this whole encounter was merely an inconvenience.