The Ex-Wife's Triumph novel Chapter 98

Kingsley picked up his phone, his fingertips scrolling quickly through the messages in the group chat. A few seconds later, he locked the screen expressionlessly and tossed the phone aside.

Then, he leaned his entire body back against the chair and closed his eyes. Yet, his knuckles remained unconsciously clenched—clearly, he was ready to play with The Lynwood Group.

In the dead of night.

The cemetery was wrapped in a darkness so thick it wouldn't dissolve. Only a few emergency lights in the distance cast a pale glow. The wind scraped past the pine and cypress trees, making a rustling sound that carried an eerie chill.

Two dark figures used the shadows of the trees for cover, moving expertly toward Sabrina Lockhart's tombstone—they had already scoped out the route clearly during the day.

The two men bowed three times symbolically before the tombstone, muttering under their breath, "Sorry about this. This has nothing to do with us; Irma ordered it. If you want revenge, go find her!"

The shorter man, his hands trembling, tugged at the arm of the man beside him. His voice was suppressed to a whisper. "Bro, I'm a bit scared... This place is gloomy. They say graveyards are haunted at night..."

His eyes darted around in panic, and his feet kept shuffling backward. "Maybe we should go back?"

The taller man glared at him, his voice hard. "Scared of what? There are no ghosts in this world! Only people with guilty consciences scare themselves! With me here, nothing will happen!"

"But we're digging up someone's ashes... it's too immoral..." The shorter man's legs shook even harder, and his voice trembled.

"Useless coward!" The tall man cursed and shoved the cutting machine into his hands. "Hurry up and work! The sooner we finish, the sooner we leave!"

He lowered his voice to warn, "Keep it quiet. Don't alert the caretaker."

Kingsley sat at his desk, his fingers resting on the notes of a document. He was evidently still processing unfinished work.

His phone screen suddenly lit up. It was a message from Shane: [Mr. Sherwood, those two men have been caught by Ms. Lynwood's people.]

His eyes fell to the screen. In their dark depths, there was a flicker of some unreadable emotion, there and gone in a heartbeat.

He smiled, his voice so light it almost melted into the night: "So she isn't a docile cat waiting to be slaughtered, but a wolf hiding its claws and teeth, ready to strike back."

His finger tapped on the screen, replying with a single word: [OK.]

No extra instructions, yet he had taken in Lucy's move completely. Deep in his eyes, a hint of amusement quietly surfaced.