Echoes of Vengeance: The Sweet Wife's Perfect Revenge-Chapter 110: Temptation

At Silvanus,

Aveline stifled a yawn when she got out of the private jet. "What..." Her voice faded, her lips curled into an O. She rubbed her eyes, looking at the runway surrounded by the mountains. The sky was blushing in color when the sun was kissing it. The chunky clouds were floating away like they didn’t witness the romance of sun and sky.

She had visited many hill stations but the runway in the middle of lush green mountains was a first.

Alaric let her admire the view, soaking in the setting sun under the clear sky.

When they stepped out of the airport, a man handed him the keys, and Alaric opened the door of the Ferrari California for her.

Aveline looked at the open-top car and Alaric. That couldn’t be from the hotel staff.

He answered her without question, "Grandmother has a vacation mansion here." And that’s how he knew the small country called Silvanus.

Aveline got in and admired the view as he drove. The empty roads, lush green, and no noise. She broke the silence, "It’s quieter than I imagined."

"That’s Silvanus for you. Never marketed for tourism. So timeless. Still." Like it’s never in a rush to catch up with the world.

Aveline watched the slow-flowing river, breathed the fresh unpolluted air, and observed people living a slow life. "Strange... I feel like I’m standing still for the first time in years."

The two years of marriage she lived before her regression and a month of hell. The first time she felt like she could finally relax.

Alaric: "..."

It was supposed to be three months. As far as he knew, she lived a pampered, free, slow, and cheerful life before that.

Anyway, "That’s what it does to people. You don’t come here for landmarks or neon lights. You come to remember what silence feels like. What the real pace is."

She smiled faintly. She liked the idea of less noise when everyone, including her, often chose noise to drown out the noise inside. "It’s beautiful. In its own... quiet way."

Aveline continued after a pause, "French charm laced with sacred calm. Even the air asks you to lower your voice."

She turned to him, finally giving him her attention, "You are famous for the noise you were creating."

Alaric glanced at her. "Interested in me?" He teased her.

"You wish."

He shook his head in resignation, "When I needed to disappear. And now... I brought you here. Not to hide. Just to breathe." He responded.

Aveline could read the depth in his words. But she wasn’t sure if she should scratch it. So she distracted herself with the breathtaking views and the river that was flowing beside them, "Maybe I needed this." Her soft voice was barely a whisper.

...

At the hotel,

Aveline looked around the hotel while Alaric went to check the rooms. She liked the vintage and heritage designs of Silvanus. Unlike the resorts and hotels she often used, it was basic yet beautiful and authentic in its own way.

"Sunshine."

She turned around and saw him beckon her. She followed him and then they parted ways into their rooms.

But Aveline paused right at the door at the sight of the bed. She unknowingly held her breath, looking at the silk dress laid on the bed. There was also a pair of heels, accessories, and a letter next to the rose.

She dropped the rose into a water bottle to keep it fresh and opened the letter.

[I’ll be by the river for dinner.]

She smiled, shaking her head. ’It’s just dinner, Aveline.’ She reminded herself when everything felt different.

She showered, got ready, and stepped out. She followed the stone path down a gently sloping trail. The soft glow of lanterns guided her steps, nestled in bushes like fireflies in wait.

The breeze was cool, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine needles. The faint sound of running water grew louder with every step until she reached the riverbank.

Her feet halted.

A round wooden table stood on the bank, vintage brass candlesticks and wine glasses that caught the candlelight like tiny stars. A few hanging lights swayed above in the breeze, strung across two leaning trees. Soft instrumental French jazz hummed from somewhere behind her, blending with the sound of the stream.

Her eyes searched, and there he was.

Alaric stood at the edge, not far from the table, one hand tucked in his trouser pocket, the other holding a wine flute. He wore a black linen shirt that highlighted his frame, sleeves pushed up just below the elbows, paired with beige pants.

He turned at the sound of her steps and paused, really paused, as if he forgot to breathe.

Scarlet silk was soft and shaped her curves smoothly. She didn’t wear much makeup, just let her hair fall in waves. Yet Alaric couldn’t take his eyes off.

She cleared her throat, determined not to drown in that look. "I didn’t know I was being asked out on a date." She mused, but even as she spoke, she felt her resolve wavering at the sight of his careful preparations.

Alaric walked toward her, slowly, like each step was deliberate. "I’m just a man taking his one good shot," he said, voice smooth.

"You’ll have to try harder if you want to impress me, Mr. Lancaster." She arched a brow but failed to hold back her smirk.

The words were meant to create distance, but her treacherous mind was already softening at the romantic scene he had created.

"I’ve got the rest of the night." He gestured toward the table.

Dinner was simple. Wild mushroom risotto, baked trout caught fresh from the stream, and wine from Silvanus’s lesser-known vineyards that she wasn’t allowed to drink.

Aveline laughed mid-bite when she caught Alaric watching her, leaning back on his chair and clearly enjoying the view.

"Stop." But her protest was weak. She was fighting a losing battle against his charm.

He didn’t blink. "What?"

Aveline set her fork down, resting her chin in her hand. "You’re dangerously close to luring me with your charms." The admission slipped out, and she cursed herself for being so transparent.

Should she start lying again?

He mirrored her posture. "I’m not trying to charm you, Sunshine. I’m trying to let you breathe."

She stilled. He wasn’t helping her. None of his actions and words were helping her stay calm. She turned her gaze to the flicker of the candles, trying to regain her composure.

"Dance with me."

She looked up. "Now?" But the offer was tempting, and she could feel her defenses crumbling.

"There’s music," he shrugged. "There’s you." He stood and extended his hand.

Aveline hesitated a beat, knowing that taking his hand would be crossing a line she had been trying so hard to maintain. But she took it.

He pulled her close. Not too much, but enough that she could feel the warmth of his chest through the fine layers of her dress. His hand settled at the small of her back, the other holding hers gently. Their bodies moved slowly, rhythm guided by the stream and the soft jazz.

When the silence overwhelmed, "Still breathing?" he whispered near her ear.

"Barely," she whispered back before biting her tongue.

Every moment in his arms was making it harder to remember why she was supposed to resist this. The way his fingers grazed her arms, her body moved with his, making her mind fuzzy.

A beat of silence.

"It suits you," he said, pulling her just a fraction closer.

"Huh?" Her voice was quieter.

"The one who doesn’t carry the world on her shoulders."

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Her eyes lifted to his, and whatever excuse she was trying to come up with dissolved.

Everything slowed. The music dimmed, the river hushed, and for one breathless moment, all she could see was him.

She didn’t want him to be her rebound. She didn’t want to need him like this.

But the ache wasn’t one of impulse. It was want, warmth, something dangerously close to peace, that she didn’t want to destroy.

"Sunshine..." His whisper slipped between the silence.

And she gave in, just for now.

Their mouths met in the next breath. Against her need, his kiss began softly. His lips moved over hers like he had all the time in the world.

Aveline froze. Her hand clutched his sleeves, her toes curling in her heels.

He wasn’t desperate. He wasn’t impulsive. Just pure intention.

When he deepened the kiss slightly, she responded instinctively, her lips parting under his gentle coaxing.

The world around them seemed to fade. All she could focus on was the taste of wine on his lips, the way his hand pressed more firmly against her lower back, drawing her closer until there was barely a breath between them.

Time stretched like honey, sweet and slow. It was the kind of kiss that said, ’I’ll wait.’ Patient. Promising. Full of unspoken words and careful restraint.

When they finally parted, both were breathing unevenly. Aveline’s eyes remained closed for a moment longer, refusing to meet the tenderness in his eyes.

She bit her lips. It was her desire and his love. And this was the reason she didn’t want to cross the line.

She didn’t want to ruin the moment for him. So she murmured, "This still doesn’t make it a date."

He chuckled softly, thumb grazing her knuckles. "Then I’ll keep trying until it counts."

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