Echoes of Vengeance: The Sweet Wife's Perfect Revenge
Chapter 75: Played

Chapter 75: Played

Sitting in the car, fidgeting with her mobile, Aveline debated whether to call Alaric. He didn’t need her to worry about him. But she just couldn’t help it, especially after the silence he chose.

Her eyes landed on a lissom woman, wearing a bold but business fit, leaning against a car. A designer scarf around her neck and chunky glasses made it hard to identify her.

She looked away to grab her bag when it struck her.

’Vivienne Sinclair!?’

If she was here in the Laurent Industries parking lot to create another scene, Aveline swore she would throw her out herself.

She stepped out as Mike opened the door for her.

"Should we send her away?" Mike asked.

Aveline’s eyes flicked to the security camera before saying, "No."

Vivienne reached them. Removing her sunglasses, she looked Aveline up and down, like always.

The sage green skirt hugged Aveline’s frame, but she looked impossibly refined with the structured blouse. A croc-textured custom bag in her hand and a muted gold buckle cinched at her waist. The gold bracelet, the subtle diamonds in her ears—not exaggerated, just perfectly balanced.

Vivienne spoke, "Give me one reason I shouldn’t be jealous of you."

"Excuse me?" Aveline blinked in confusion. "Maybe... height?" Vivienne was easily five inches taller than her.

Vivienne looked at Aveline as if she were ridiculous, "Don’t tell me that’s your insecurity." Because Aveline was perfect in her eyes.

"I never said that," Aveline replied flatly.

Yes, she was shorter than her mother and most of the people around her. But she had an average height. It wasn’t something she wasted time being insecure about.

"And I don’t think you’re here to talk about my insecurities." She added.

Vivienne’s expression darkened. She pulled down her scarf, revealing red marks circling her neck.

Mike tensed, frowning, but he stood still.

Aveline’s fingers clutched her bag tightly. The redness looked painful, but she stayed composed. "What are you pulling this time? That I choked you?"

Vivienne didn’t deflect, "Yesterday, he was screaming your name, Nina, for the first time in all these years."

Aveline heard her clearly, but her expression didn’t shift.

Vivienne frowned in confusion, watching Aveline. There was no panic, no doubt, no questions, nothing from Aveline.

Damien called her Nina, it was intimate. Every woman wanted to be called and pampered like a little girl by her husband.

Wasn’t she clear enough with her words?

She tried to push harder, "Damien Ashford has slept with me for years. The past two months of your marriage are no different."

Aveline already knew that, and Vivienne doesn’t have to know that. "And you expect me to believe it?"

Because she didn’t trust a word out of Vivienne and Damien’s mouths. And Damien could pull up any stunt if he was suspicious of her.

Vivienne faltered. She couldn’t believe the supposed kind lady didn’t react to the mark on her neck, or doubt Damien.

"Sweetheart, my husband’s life revolves around business, not women. If you want me to believe you, bring me proof." Aveline walked past her.

Vivienne: "..."

Vivienne stared at Aveline’s retreating back. How could Aveine believe Damien never slept with other women?

But the way Aveline said it, it was clear. Aveline knew more about Damien than she was letting on. And still didn’t care.

’Proof?’

Damien never let her take pictures. Always paranoid they’d fall into the wrong hands.

She got in her car, drove out, thinking of a way to get proof.

If Aveline were to learn of Damien’s affair, Vivienne believed Aveline would push her family to destroy Damien instead.

....

In the elevator, Aveline began instructing, "Assistant Wilson, I need you to check security footage. Vivienne might’ve planted a voice recorder or camera. Or someone else could’ve been watching. Or Damien must have forced her into this. Find out her real motive."

Her voice sharpened, "How did she even enter the parking lot? I want that security officer fired. Immediately." It was a non-negotiable.

While Mike handed security footage, Avelline headed to Charles’s office. She demanded a full reevaluation of the security and other internal departments. It would keep Laurent Industries airtight from Damien’s reach.

She was just leaving when it hit her, "Where is Dad?" Henry had left the house without breakfast.

Charles shrugged, "No idea."

Nodding, she dialed Henry’s number as she walked out of the office. The phone rang to the end before it was answered.

[Lina...]

"Dad, where are you?" She asked, then added, "Just like you want to keep me informed, I need to know about you too."

There was a long pause in the line. Like he was deciding something, [Daniel Anderson is found." Another pause, [Why did you hide it from me?]

She didn’t respond to his question. "Dad, I have questions, too. Send me the location." She stayed calm, voice steady. But she was rushing towards the elevator.

She ran to her car. Just as she was pulling out, her phone lit up on the smart screen. Alaric.

She took a breath before answering. "Good morning." She greeted, sounding more than casual.

[Sunshine.] His tone was low and heavy. [Find me for your answers. Don’t wait. Just come.]

The call ended.

Aveline blinked in confusion.

Vivienne’s intention. Damien’s silence. Alaric’s riddle. The man behind the Daniel Anderson letter.

There was too much to resolve.

...

Driving into the abandoned industrial zone outside Velmora, Aveline rechecked the location sent to her. Her nerves eased only after she spotted her father’s car.

She stepped out and saw a man she didn’t recognize. His suit was wrinkled and mismatched with stained jeans. Like he was dressed by force.

Her hand hovered over her phone’s power button. To send an SOS if she was tricked. Yet, her expression stayed unreadable.

"Ms. Laurent, Chairman Laurent is inside." The man said respectfully.

She followed him into a rusted machinery hall. The air was stale, heavy with dust. She had to stifle a cough.

Then she saw him. Unconscious Daniel Anderson was tied to a chair. His face and body were covered in old and new bruises. His clothes were filthy.

Her eyes darted past him and found her father. He was sitting on a wooden chair, clean and tidy, with no hair out of place.

Only then did she let herself breathe.

She stood before Henry and told him everything from the day she received the letter to how she stirred their attention onto the company instead of Damien.

When she finished, Henry exhaled sharply and tried to contain himself. But he snapped. "Aveline Laurent, have you lost your mind? Is that company more important to me than your life?"

His voice thundered in the empty factory. His face was red, his breath shaky, unable to believe she prioritised company and continued to live with Damien even after she found out his true colors.

She froze. Her eyes instinctively filled. She swallowed the lump in her throat, spoke, "That’s the point, Dad."

She looked up and met his eyes, "You think of me. I have to think of you, Mom, Bro, and every employee working hard for us."

She wasn’t going to hide behind them and watch them risk everything.

"You want to keep me safe, and I want to protect all of you from Damien. I don’t want to stand alone at the end. I want us all intact. Even if it takes more than what I can bear."

She swallowed, and this time her voice shook just a little. "Maybe I’m naive. But I’m not wrong, Dad."

Henry pinched the bridge of his nose. He had kept her safe from monsters just to watch her fight one alone.

Should he be proud of her resolve? He was just wrecked all over again.

A cough broke the silence. Daniel woke up, grimacing due to pain..

She stepped in front of him and asked, "Why did you send me the letter?"

That caught everyone’s attention, including Henry. Daniel could have sent the letter to Charles, Henry, or any manager of the company, but he chose Aveline.

Why?

"You!?" He rasped and swallowed his spit to soothe his throat. "Aveline Laurent?" He coughed again, eyes blinking hard. "Him... Damien’s friend... Alaric Lancaster made me write the letter."

Aveline froze.

She took a stunned breath. Then another. Her lips parted, "Alaric?"

Her trust, her belief in him, cracked. She was wounded all over again.

She found it hard to breathe when she realized she wasn’t playing but being played.