Revenge Wears My Ring novel Chapter 75

“Don’t be scared, Queenie. It’s nothing, really…” Julian’s voice drifted over, gentle in a way completely unlike the cold, businesslike tone he’d used at the dinner table. He was trying to soothe her, almost tender. “My father’s just impatient, that’s all. He wants Gwyneth’s shares locked down as soon as possible. Gwyneth and I? We’re just putting on a show—playing our parts, you know? It’s all for the Locke family, for our future…”

“Really, Julian? But… but Gwyneth, she…” Queenie’s voice trembled with tears, thick with anxiety and jealousy.

“Of course it’s true!” Julian’s reply was full of emotion—an affection Gwyneth had never seen him show before. “She’s nothing to me. Just a tool for a business alliance, that’s all. The only woman I love is you. It’s always been you. Once she marries in, she can have the Locke family’s name, but my heart, my life—they’re yours.”

Then came the faint rustle of clothes, Queenie’s muffled sobs, the sound of Julian comforting her in his arms.

Outside the bathroom door, Gwyneth’s face drained of color. But she wasn’t heartbroken—just utterly, nauseatingly disgusted.

A show?

A tool?

Fine. If they wanted a performance, she’d give them one.

She drew a slow, deep breath, then quickly fished out the tiny vial of eye drops she’d stashed in her purse. Without a second thought, she squeezed two drops into each eye.

The cool sting made her eyes instantly red and brimming with tears. Paired with her pale complexion and tightly pressed lips, she looked every bit the picture of someone devastated and on the verge of collapse.

It was time.

Gwyneth lifted her hand and shoved open the bathroom door, which was never locked to begin with.

Bang! The door slammed against the wall with a crash.

The scene inside was thrown into the harsh light:

Julian was holding Queenie tight as she cried into his chest, her arms still wrapped around his waist.

Startled by the noise, they sprang apart as if shocked by an electric current, their faces etched with panic, shock, and the raw shame of being caught.

Gwyneth stood in the doorway, tears streaming down her cheeks, her body trembling as if she might collapse at any second.

She pointed a shaking finger at the two of them, her voice splintered with disbelief but ringing out clear as a bell:

That look was filled with bitter disappointment at his son’s stupidity.

His son was talented in so many ways—except reading the room.

There were plenty of women out there. Why this one?

“Gwyneth, let me explain, it’s not what it looks like, we were just—” Julian stammered, desperate to defend himself, but the undeniable scene before them made any excuse sound hollow.

“Just what?!” Yale roared, swinging his hand up and landing a vicious slap across Julian’s face.

Crack! The slap echoed harshly in the silent hallway.

Julian’s head snapped to the side, a bright red mark blooming on his cheek.

“You idiot!”

Yale was shaking with rage, jabbing a finger in Julian’s face. “You’ve disgraced the Locke family! Is this how you repay us? Right under my nose, you sneak around with someone like her—a woman who’s not even fit to stand in this house!”