Revenge Wears My Ring novel Chapter 276

Gwyneth was quick to sense that something was off with Bennett tonight. He’d brought her to this place—so full of his own personal touches—that it couldn’t possibly be just for the city lights.

Turning her head, she let her gentle gaze linger on his profile, the outline of his face softly illuminated by starlight. Her voice was barely above a whisper as she asked, “Is there… something on your mind tonight?”

Bennett glanced over at her, his eyes deep and unreadable beneath the night sky, emotions swirling inside them, tangled and hard to name.

He hesitated, weighing his words. Then, after a moment, he simply shook his head, his voice softer than the breeze. “It’s nothing.”

He paused, eyes drifting back to the endless sea of city lights ahead. After a heartbeat, he added, almost as if the words were carried away by the wind, “I just… suddenly miss my family, I guess.”

Family?

Gwyneth blinked in surprise, questions instantly flooding her mind.

His family… wasn’t that just Yale and Julian? Their relationship was clearly strained, but by blood, they were father and sons, brothers.

Unless—

A wild, half-absurd thought flashed through her mind.

She opened her mouth to ask, but Bennett seemed to sense her thoughts and spoke first.

His voice was calm, almost detached, but what he said hit Gwyneth like a stone dropped into a still lake—sending shockwaves through her.

“Yale isn’t my biological father.”

Gwyneth’s eyes shot wide open and she sucked in a sharp breath, nearly jumping right out of her seat.

What?!

Tonight’s revelations just kept getting more explosive.

If this ever got out, it would rock the upper crust of Banyan City.

Fragments of old memories snapped together in her mind—no wonder she’d always felt that Yale treated Bennett and Julian so differently, that subtle distance, that edge of wariness. No wonder Bennett had left the Locke Group to start his own company, even changed his name.

Boyd?

So, his real last name was Boyd?

Gwyneth’s heart hammered furiously in her chest. It felt as if she’d just stumbled onto a secret that had been locked away for years.

Bennett offered no further explanation. He just kept staring at a distant point in the city, his gaze empty and faraway, as if looking straight through the glittering skyline into memories no one else could see. A quiet, impenetrable loneliness clung to him.

After a long moment, he lifted his other hand and, in a gesture so gentle it was almost reverent, brushed her hair. It was as if he were handling something precious and rare.

He looked at her, meeting her gaze, and gave a simple, solemn reply.

“Okay.”

Then, almost like a magician, Bennett produced a pretty paper bag from behind him. From it, he took out a rustic-looking but deliciously fragrant butter cookie and held it out to her.

“Here. Try this.”

Gwyneth accepted it with a puzzled look, but as she glanced down and recognized it, her eyes widened in disbelief.

No way—this was the old-fashioned butter cookie from that tiny bakery she’d loved as a kid! The one hidden down a little side street, where you always had to queue for ages to get a box! She’d gone looking for it again and again over the years, only to find it had closed for good; the neighbors said the owner had retired, and she’d been disappointed ever since.

And now—here it was, looking exactly as she remembered.

She couldn’t wait. She took a careful bite.

The cookie crumbled perfectly in her mouth, rich with the taste of walnuts and toasted sesame, just the right amount of sweetness. It was the taste she’d dreamed of since childhood.