Echoes of Vengeance: The Sweet Wife's Perfect Revenge
Chapter 79: Spilled Blood

Chapter 79: Spilled Blood

Two days rolled over uneventfully.

Aveline got busy with the office work. The paintings were ready with the cameras. It meant it was time she moved to Sterling Villa.

Henry had to leave the country in disguise as a vacation to destroy Damien’s shell companies’ fund, and Margaret accompanied him.

Knowing Aveline was busy, Alaric didn’t disturb her until Friday when a card was placed on his table.

Ezra spoke while Alaric opened the card. "It’s an invitation card from Ashford Holdings."

Alaric opened the card to read the big, bold letters, ’Black-Tie Investor Gala’ for project Crown.

It was an event to celebrate with stakeholders and to attract future investors.

Alaric kept the card away after looking at the date. June 4, Saturday, was the next day.

Why was he receiving the letter so late?

Was he truly invited?

He was still guessing when his phone rang, finally, displaying the name that hadn’t lit up his screen for two days.

Sunshine.

He answered, "Sunshine..." His voice was smooth, hiding his eagerness to hear her.

Ezra quietly departed the room, hearing the nickname.

[Got the invite?] She asked, skipping pleasantries, again.

He realized it was Aveline who sent him the invite. "How did you manage it?" If Damien wasn’t interested in inviting him, his appearance would only complicate things.

Aveline’s voice continued after a brief pause, [He asked me to be his date.] Her voice didn’t reveal her emotions.

Her words meant Damien was introducing her as his wife. If Damien was trying to gain her trust for the piece of land that was in her name, then he had struck a difficult chord in their life.

Aveline was planning everything by what had happened before she regressed. But Damien was changing his plans. He might not kill Aveline and not marry Vivienne.

Her plan has to change.

Alaric’s hold on the mobile tightened at her words. His green eyes turned a shade darker, but he blinked it away quickly.

Aveline was Damien’s wife. Alaric had even planned to destroy Damien’s game by revealing her identity. So getting possessive over how she would be introduced wasn’t right.

Aveline continued after a pause, [I just arranged an invite for you.] She responded to his question while her voice carried a hint of uncertainty.

Clearly, the tension between them hadn’t dissolved after their intimacy. Their physical closeness had done something to both of them. Alaric could hear it in her restraint.

But did he want to attend the event?

The event where he had to watch her arm hooked to Damien’s, following him around, and being introduced as Damien’s wife.

Honestly, Alaric didn’t want to. But there was an exception.

"Are you going to pull anything silly?" He asked.

[Err... Yep. But I’m not sure if I’ll fail again or pass.]

He didn’t ask about the plan. But he wanted to be available in case of emergency, especially when her father wasn’t around. "I’ll be around." He responded.

[Okay.] She responded, and the call ended.

...

In a designer studio,

Aveline took Alaric’s response as his disinterest, especially since the invite hadn’t come from Damien himself.

When she heard the steps approaching, she put her phone away and smiled at the designer who showed up upon hearing she was at the studio.

"My grace, aren’t you growing more beautiful each day!?" The man in his fifties complimented and hugged her.

Aveline spoke once they stood back, "I’m here with a mission." She went straight to the point.

"I love it." He anticipated what was next

"There is a black tie event."

He rolled his eyes at the sound of that boring phrase.

Avelien smiled as she continued, "Tomorrow."

That widened his eyes. Because he didn’t have much time. "Honey..."

He wanted to complain, but Aveline cut him off, "I want to look sultry. To burn the eyes of..."

"Men!?" He interrupted out of curiosity as Aveline has always been the modest one.

"Women." She corrected him. Specifically, Cassandra and her daughter.

"That’s tough, sweetheart." He started thinking.

"That’s why I’m here. You know women well." A bit of flattery.

He flashed a smirk at her words, and then shooed her away, "Fine... go. Go, go, I need to get to work."

Aveline shook her head in resignation and stepped out of the studio. Before she could fetch her mobile, she saw a black car parked not far away.

She gracefully got in the car, and it drove off.

...

A man suddenly rushed out of the studio towards his car. He started following Aveline.

While driving and keeping an eye on the BMW, he sent an audio to a number and dialed the same number.

[What happened?] It was Damien’s voice.

"Sir, I have sent you an audio. She didn’t take her car and got in a suspicious black BMW iX. I’m following her right now." He reported hurriedly.

[Number plate?]

The driver responded, and Damien mentioned, [That’s my grandmother. Keep me updated.]

The call ended.

...

At Ashford Holdings,

Damien listened to the audio of Aveline’s conversation with the designer. He played it twice to make sure he wasn’t missing anything.

He wanted to ignore it, thinking Aveline just wanted to look better than other women. But sultry?

That was so not her style.

And sultry in a black tie event?

If it had been Vivienne, sure. But Aveline? It didn’t make sense to him.

Upon that, why would his grandmother leave the Ashford mansion to meet Aveline?

His grandmother hardly stepped out, much less socialised. What made her contact Aveline?

Or was it Aveline who invited her?

The questions continued bugging him all day and night.

–––––

Saturday evening, at the Emeralds,

The only five-star hotel in Velmora was owned by the Lancasters. The building stood like a landmark of taste and old money. Floor-to-ceiling glass, carved marble archways, and polished interiors bathed in gold-toned lightning.

It looked nothing less than a palace.

Just past the grand entrance, a black and gold banner stood proudly.

Black-tie Investor Gala.

Ashford Holdings

Venue: The Ruby Hall, 5th floor.

Luxury cars lined up out front. Men were in tailored fit suits, and women were in elegant evening gowns when they stepped out one by one.

Every jewelry, clothing brand, and their cars were exhibiting a hierarchy of status.

The hierarchy shifted further when Nicholas Lancaster arrived, and all the guards and staff welcomed him with a bow. He was attending the event on behalf of the family and to speak with Damien.

The guest list was elite. Businessmen, investors, seasoned politicians, and even S-list celebrities with money to throw into the project ’Crown.’

It wasn’t just an investor event. It was a high-stakes networking event.

Amidst, a Maybach quietly pulled up at the entrance. And Aveline stepped out of the car like the dark night itself had taken human form. Her appearance was quiet, dangerous, and impossible to ignore.

The onlookers who glanced towards her forgot to look away. May it be makeup, her hair, or fit, everything was perfection.

The soft pool of black silk hugged her frame, one bare shoulder bore a sculpted ruffle, the other arm remained free, looking relaxed, yet lethal in its grace.

The men swallowed looking at the slit running high up her thigh. It wasn’t just fashion, it was a calculated invitation to look her way, to linger their gaze a little too long.

Her black high heels struck the pavement with an unhurried elegance, the kind only women born of privilege and draped in poise could carry.

She didn’t smile. She didn’t have to. Her entire look did all the talking.

Damien stood stunned on the other side of the glass wall. He had never seen Aveline look so tempting. He even admired his view.

"Damn, if she is the project, I might just invest in sleeping with her." An onlooker commented.

"Forget the project, I would take my time exploring her thighs." Another one fantasized.

Damien’s jaw clenched instantly. A muscle twitched in his temple. He shot a glare at the men, who quickly scattered like they had never existed.

He stormed to the door as if ready to slap some sense into her.

But the moment Aveline entered, he paused, because for a second, he wanted to admire what was his. "Nina," His voice mesmerised, "I never thought I would say this to you..."

Aveline didn’t want him to finish. She could already see it in his eyes.

Lust.

"You look sexy." He said it anyway, resisting his urge to touch her anywhere.

She smiled politely and returned the compliment, "And you..." She looked at him and said, "Handsome." She didn’t put in effort to compliment him.

He offered his arm, and she reluctantly held his arm. They made their way to the fifth floor with stunned onlookers.

The elevator door opened with a tune, and they stepped into the hallway. But just as she was about to step towards the hall, a woman suddenly stumbled and crashed into a decorative table that was in the middle of the hallway.

"Ahh...."

Aveline moved on instinct, trying to step away. But her body crashed into Damien’s.

’Crash!’

A glass vase fell straight onto Aveline’s foot. She grimaced as water soaked her gown and flowers spilled across the marbled floor.

The woman scrambled up, flustered, hands waving. "I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t see... Oh god, are you hurt? I didn’t mean to... I just... my heel twisted... I swear I didn’t..."

She kneeled, began crying, and apologized like her life depended on it. It garnered a lot of attention. People started gathering there.

"She has already fallen to her knees. What else is she expecting?"

"It’s just a dress. She didn’t have to make the poor lady kneel for that."

"How insensitive of her?"

Whereas Aveline tried to take in the pain, unable to stand on her heels.

Hearing the murmurs, her so-called husband not bothering to help her or speak of her, she had to swallow the pain.

"Are you alright, Nina?" Damien’s voice suddenly chimed.

She smiled through clenched teeth. She let him know he had won this round. But the next blood spilled on marble wouldn’t be hers.