Echoes of Vengeance: The Sweet Wife's Perfect Revenge
Chapter 73: A New Low

Chapter 73: A New Low

At Obsidian,

When walking away from Damien, Aveline thought of leaving the Obsidian. Standing in the elevator that had reached the upper floor, she wasn’t sure if she should step outside.

Weren’t the higher floors meant for suites?

Why would Alaric bring her there?

She was frozen, especially after what happened just a few seconds ago.

Alaric glanced back when she didn’t move. She was pale. He said to break the silence, "Dinner? There is a private kitchen." In a short time, she had stepped out of the private room. He could guess she hadn’t eaten.

Aveline wanted to ask what he meant, but her lips refused to move. Her throat felt dry, emotions wrecking her from the inside out. So her legs moved instead, cautiously following him.

His words ran in her mind, ’You don’t have to suffer like this.’

Who would choose to suffer?

Probably no one knew how all this was draining her. Yet, he always seemed to read her like a book.

How? How was that even possible?

She didn’t love what she was doing. Damien’s touch disgusted her every time. Being in the same room as him was no less than torture.

She wanted to get him off her back. Live a life she could love.

But Damien wasn’t easy. If he only attacked Laurent Industries, she could’ve let her father take care of it. She could’ve helped him, too.

But when it came to his ego, to his ambition, Damien could kill. Plan a murder and call it an accident. She wasn’t ready to see her loved ones take their last breath because of Damien.

If it meant saving them, she would rather give up her own life.

Does she have a choice?

At the door, Aveline looked into the room—a sleek kitchen and a long table. Teppanyaki style. A modern Japanese setup where the chef cooks right in front of guests.

Her fists unclenched, her shoulders relaxed. She walked in, dropping her guards. Alaric only let himself breathe once he saw her ease.

She asked, "Do you have all kinds of restaurants here?" Her eyes traced the kitchen’s steel fixtures, then the dark wooden panels before meeting his eyes.

"Sunshine..."

Aveline tilted her head.

"The last thing you should worry about is me hurting or taking advantage of you."

His voice was sincere. He didn’t want her nervousness. Not when she was already carrying too much.

Aveline: "..."

She met his eyes, believing every word he uttered. But she didn’t want the conversation to go deeper. She smiled, trying to deflect. "Well, I’m the one taking advantage of you." And that was the truth.

Even as she said it, the weight in her chest pressed heavier. She didn’t have to act in front of him. Did she?

’Knock’

Both turned to the door at the knock. The chef walked in, paused mid-step, and grinned. "Ms. Laurent."

Aveline blinked in surprise, "Fancy seeing you here." Her voice chirped.

The two exchanged a brief hug.

Alaric: "..."

The chef got to work, prepping ingredients on the hot griddle. Aveline turned to Alaric, "He worked part-time as my chef during my uni. I was his taste-tester for every signature dish."

Alaric subtly nodded, not missing the smile she carried when she spoke of the chef. He couldn’t help but watch the chef.

Height? Shorter.

Physique? Lean.

Muscle mass? Almost nonexistent.

Personality? Too cheerful. Knew too much. Smiled too much.

His first thought was to fire him. But watching Aveline forget the mess, even for ten minutes, he decided, maybe he would give him a bonus instead.

The chef left after preparing their final course. Aveline rubbed her belly and gave Alaric a billion-dollar smile.

That made it worth it.

Then came another knock. The CEO of Obsidian whispered something to Alaric and quietly left.

Aveline noticed the change in his face. "What’s wrong?" she asked.

He shifted the topic. "Take your medicine." He stood, grabbed her bag, and helped her with her trench coat.

"I will show you around next time." He promised.

She hummed, watching him carefully. She could tell something was off.

When the elevator reached the ground floor and the doors slid open, she paused at the sight of armed guards standing in the hallway.

Alaric noticed her gaze, "We’re licensed. And they’re my grandmother’s guards."

Aveline stepped closer to him, whispering, "The Queen, De’conti!?" As far as she knew, Edward Lancaster’s mother had passed away years ago.

He nodded, hiding the storm behind his calmness. He walked her to the car, ignoring her insistence, ’Goooo.’

"There’ll be a security vehicle right behind." He informed both Aveline and Mike Wilson, who was already behind the wheel.

"Why?" Aveline asked innocently.

"Damien might block you." He lied. In truth, it was to keep his own family from pulling any strings.

She wasn’t answering Damien’s calls anyway. So she shrugged, half expecting Damien to lose his mind.

....

Inside Isabella’s office,

Alaric opened the door and stepped inside. Ezra stood in the corner, and Giselle was on the couch. Isabella was by the table. His eyes scanned for his grandmother.

Beatrice De’Conti stepped forward. Elegant even in her eighties and in fury. She offered no words. Just a sharp slap across his face.

’Slap’

Ezra lowered his head. Isabella flinched, then her expression hardened. Giselle gritted her teeth, looking at Isabella.

Alaric clenched his jaw and looked back at his grandmother. The sting meant nothing to him. He didn’t flinch or move.

"I took your side every time, Alaric." Beatrice’s voice trembled with rage. "How dare you send a restraining order on your mother?"

His mother finds a new low every time something happens. He wasn’t surprised. If she thought using Beatrice against him would work, then she was wrong.

"If you’re so grown up to do as you wish," Beatrice continued, "then understand why your mother did what she did." Her voice wasn’t loud. But it carried the weight in the room.

The door burst open. Edward Lancaster entered, fury carved into every line of his face. One look at Alaric’s face, and he knew the reason behind the redness on his cheek.

He had tried his best to make Isabella understand, but he had reached his limit. "Isabella De’Conti, I’m disappointed in you." His voice was thunderous.

Beatrice’s face darkened. Before she could speak, Alaric’s cold voice cut in.

"I’m done with this family drama." His gaze lingered, disappointment clear as it landed on Giselle. He turned and walked out.

"Ric..." Giselle followed him.

Ezra bowed slightly to Beatrice and followed after. He didn’t serve her anymore.

Edward wasn’t done there. He turned to Beatrice, "None of this would’ve escalated if you weren’t always backing her."

Then he looked at Isabella, "None of this would’ve happened if I had broken my promise to you long ago."

He stepped closer, "You call this protecting him? You didn’t protect him from Nicholas. Or from Giselle. You failed as a mother. This..." He grabbed the restraining order and slapped it back on the desk. "This is the result."

"Edward, mind your tongue." Beatrice hissed, though Isabella still hadn’t moved a muscle.

Edward gave a dry laugh. "Your Majesty, let’s not start on how you encouraged Ric into partying and intoxication."

Beatrice froze. For the first time, she had no