Revenge Wears My Ring novel Chapter 70

She leaned forward slightly, closing the distance between herself and the hospital bed. Her voice, barely above a whisper, cut through the heavy silence with startling clarity.

“Bennett.”

For the first time, fully conscious and unguarded, she spoke his name—no titles, no formalities, just the simple sound of it.

“Tonight…” She paused, as if weighing her decision, or perhaps bracing herself for his refusal.

At last, her cool, almost resigned voice settled over every corner of the room, quiet but unmistakable:

“I’m staying.”

It wasn’t a question. There was no discussion.

It was a statement.

She didn’t wait to see his reaction. Instead, she turned and walked toward the large armchair in the corner—the one meant for overnight visitors.

On the bed, Bennett kept his eyes closed, his breathing deep and even, as if already lost in sleep.

But the line of his lips, pressed tight, softened almost imperceptibly—a tiny, secret smile flickering at the corner of his mouth.

——

Meanwhile,

At the Sutton family estate.

The room was a wreck. Shattered porcelain and twisted metal littered the floor, catching the overhead light in cold, glinting shards.

Desiree’s chest heaved. The fleeting satisfaction of smashing things had been obliterated by the news her mother brought—a deep, gnawing jealousy and the raw humiliation of being played were all that remained.

“Bennett… is in love?” Her voice was hoarse, the words squeezed out through clenched teeth, every syllable sharp with disbelief. “How could he…”

No wonder he’s been treating me this way!

In her mind, Gwyneth’s face flashed—a faint, ethereal smile, always seeming untouched by the messiness of real life.

He’d rather get hurt himself than let anything happen to her.

Like an idiot, she’d danced to Queenie’s tune.

But even this fresh wave of hatred for Queenie couldn’t erase her disgust for Gwyneth.

“But Mom,” Desiree’s voice rose again, sharper now, teetering on the edge, “I just can’t stand her. All that fake innocence, the holier-than-thou act, just looking at her makes me sick!”

She couldn’t even explain where this burning resentment came from.

Eleanor pressed her lips together, frowning as she took in her daughter’s bloodshot eyes and contorted face. With a weary sigh, she said, “Desiree, calm down. What has Gwyneth ever done to you? She’s just—she’s just a decent girl—”

“She hasn’t done anything? Just being here is enough to piss me off.” Desiree snapped, cutting her off. She jumped to her feet and kicked aside the remains of a stuffed animal at her feet.

But right now, what she needed most was to unleash all her rage on Queenie’s lies.

She grabbed the only phone on her desk that hadn’t been destroyed.

Her fingers trembled with fury, but she found Queenie’s number with laser-sharp precision.

“Queenie!”