Echoes of Vengeance: The Sweet Wife's Perfect Revenge
Chapter 63: Dirty Looks

Chapter 63: Dirty Looks

In Bugatti,

Only after taking her medication did Aveline realize it was making her drowsy. "Why do these new meds make me drowsy?" She barely resisted a yawn, feeling embarrassed.

Her car was right behind, she couldn’t even think of driving in her state.

Alaric didn’t get a chance to respond before she added, "You knew about this, didn’t you?"

He did. That’s why he drove over to the clubhouse the moment she told him she went alone without her assistant.

Well, she didn’t want Lawrence to guard up after seeing her with Mike Wilson. And asking Mike to wait for her in the car would have been degrading for him and his position.

She buried her face in her palms when another yawn took over. He suggested, "Those are strong meds, Sunshine. Sleep." His voice was soothing.

Leaning back, her eyes drooped heavily. "I need to meet Vivienne Sinclair..." Her voice trailed off into sleep.

...

At NexGuard,

Half an hour later, Aveline opened her eyes to a familiar ceiling and a warm throw pulled over her. The rhythmic typing filled the space. She turned toward the desk where he sat, so focused behind his laptop, yet effortlessly charming.

A few seconds passed when she blinked out of daze, ’Why am I checking him out?’

’Red, you will be my death.’ She cursed her friend for feeding her brain this nonsense.

Last night, she had been trying to get Nate, Scarlett’s boyfriend, to help her dig up dirt on Lawrence, but Scarlett insisted she work with Alaric instead. Lancaster’s resources and network were huge. More importantly, she didn’t have to worry about Damien physically harming Alaric.

Scarlett had also added: Being around a handsome man might help you get over Damien... and learn what Alaric really wants.

Profile: Alaric Lancaster

The Clues:

- He flirts

- He’s dominant

- He cares

- He’s childish at times.

Sensing her gaze, he spoke without pausing his typing or moving his gaze away from the screen. "Nauseous?" Amelia had mentioned there might be a chance of nausea.

Sitting up slowly, she checked herself, then shook her head. "No."

After sending his email, he grabbed a glass of water and walked over. "Vivienne Sinclair is at work," he said, handing her the glass. "She hasn’t seen Damien since I threw her out of my villa."

’Pfft.’

Aveline choked on the water and started coughing.

Her one wild thought, Alaric sleeping with Vivienne.

He quickly took the glass from her hand and slid a tissue box toward her, watching carefully as she caught her breath.

Under her accusing stare, he explained how Damien had sent Vivienne to his villa, drawing a kidnapping case, and how he destroyed the villa to throw her out.

First, she pieced together Damien’s petty plan. Then, "You destroyed the villa?" Thousands of dollars. Just like that.

"What if he pulls another stunt at one of your other places?" she asked, genuinely curious.

He answered casually, like he was selling vegetables. "One beach villa is already sold. Two more are up for sale." Damien had access to only those three.

Aveline swallowed. Damien really could pull anything to achieve his goals. What else happened without her being aware?

"Tell me more." She wasn’t really expecting him to open up. He never did. But she wanted to try.

He deadpanned, "I sold a car."

Her brows lifted, unable to understand, "Why?"

"I didn’t want Damien’s perfume stinking up my nose."

She blinked. "You’re serious?"

Who does that?

He nodded like it was a million-dollar business decision. "And I filed a private notice with the aviation board. No more unauthorized landings on my runway."

She squinted her eyes, "Why now?" She was half expecting him to give her another absurd reason.

"He dropped a smoothie. Blueberry. My runway is stained."

She pursed her lips but couldn’t help it. A soft, startled laugh slipped past her lips.

What is he? A kid?

"I’m sorry..." she tried to hold it back. But it happened. She laughed harder.

Alaric said nothing. He simply watched her face glowing pink, eyes shining brightly, and her laughter filling the room, and something inside his chest.

In that moment, Aveline forgot what Damien might do to him.

Because he didn’t need her to worry about his protection.

....

At a restaurant,

After back-to-back meetings, a client had suggested lunch outside. So Vivienne ended up bringing them out. Getting out of the car, she was heading toward the entrance when the restaurant manager passed her by without even a nod.

She turned around and saw him open the door of the Bugatti when it came to a halt. Her eyes narrowed when the door opened, giving a glimpse of the one who drove it in.

Aveline Laurent.

Every nerve of her body lit up with rage.

She watched Aveline step out in limited edition ivory boots and a custom handbag that cost more than Vivienne’s entire closet.

Vivienne wanted to storm away, but her legs refused to move, and her eyes checked out Aveline’s outfit.

The belted blazer cinched her slim waist, and her pleated skirt added perfect structure. But Vivienne’s eyes locked on the huge rose-cut diamond glinting, barely hanging on a dainty gold chain.

What was that? A toy?

Before she could storm off, Aveline stood in front of her.

"Vivienne Sinclair!?" Aveline’s voice was soft and polite. "I was hoping I could speak with you."

Vivienne: "..."

"I’m sorry for what happened at Power Lunchers. I didn’t know who you were. I said a lot of nonsense." Her apology sounded sincere.

Vivienne didn’t budge. Still too bitter about being inferior in front of someone who looked like she came out of an editorial.

"You’re a celebrity," Aveline continued, gently. "I’m sure you know how it feels to get stopped by some random person."

Vivienne’s brow twitched. Then she gave a plastic smile. "You are...?" Her tone dripped with mockery. "A celebrity? Influencer?" She also pretended not to know.

Aveline knew what Vivienne was pulling. "Oh, look at me... I’m Aveline Laurent."

"Whatever." Vivienne spun on her heels and walked off like she was on a runway.

Aveline: "..."

Then came the laugh. It was low, deep, and amused.

She turned to see Alaric leaning against a nearby pillar, absolutely enjoying her plan’s failure.

She looked away, pouting. She wasn’t embarrassed for failing, but him watching.

She expected Vivienne to take the chance to acquaint herself with her for whatever reason she might like it to be.

He gestured for her to get closer, and curiosity got the better of her. She obeyed. "I’ll get you another chance," he offered. Then leaned in. "If you kiss me."

Aveline immediately aimed for his ankle.

He dodged the strike and grinned, "Go in. I’ll be in the private room."

She swore her cheeks were pink from sheer embarrassment. She muttered behind him, "You didn’t have to follow me..."

He turned, completely straight-faced, "Sunshine, I’m here for lunch." He smirked.

Aveline: "..."

She resisted the urge to slap her forehead and followed the manager inside. He led her to a table with a perfect view of Vivienne’s.

She was scrolling through the digital menu when two of Vivienne’s clients stood up, whispered among themselves, and hesitantly approached her.

"Ms. Laurent?" one asked.

Aveline raised her brows. "Yes?" She was polite.

She guessed Alaric could be the one who managed to get Vivienne out of the Sinclair headquarters, and this chance.

The man respectfully placed his card on her table, and he introduced himself. He was a silk manufacturer, showed interest in working with Laurents, and asked her to visit their showroom to find numerous kinds of silk.

She accepted it with a smile, thanked them, and watched them walk back, just as Vivienne returned from the restroom.

Vivienne froze for half a second before storming toward Aveline, her expression fierce.

"Aveline Laurent," she said, her voice loud enough for a few tables to turn. "Are you here to sabotage me?"

Aveline blinked, "Excuse me?" She wasn’t the one who approached her vendors.

"You’re sitting here alone, dressed like a walking PR campaign, charming my clients from across the table. Do you think I’m stupid?" Vivienne roared.

Whispers filled the restaurant.

Aveline said, her tone composed, eyes calm. "I just came here for lunch."

Vivienne let out a short, sharp laugh. "Please. You show up in designer boots, and the moment I leave the table, miraculously, my vendors go to you?"

Aveline’s eyes dropped down for a moment. Then she met her eyes. "Ms. Sinclair," Her tone, calm but sharp, "if your vendors are that easily stolen, maybe you should worry less about me and more about your pitch."

Vivienne’s face twisted. "You bitch..." She hissed, and her hand flew up.

It happened too fast. Aveline raised her arm instinctively in defense.

But the slap didn’t land. The whispers died.

Aveline blinked, her eyes snapping to the hand that had stopped Vivienne’s strike.

Her heart jumped. Her breath caught, and her face went pale.

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