Echoes of Vengeance: The Sweet Wife's Perfect Revenge-Chapter 113: A Goodbye

In the morning,

Aveline stirred to soft light bleeding through the delicate curtains as the events of the night settled back into her mind. The night was over. The day had started. She wasn’t sure how the vacation was going to feel now.

Her hand brushed over the bed, searching for warmth, his presence. But it was cold. Empty and silent.

Propping herself up on her arm, Aveline blinked toward the vacant space beside her and scanned the room. He wasn’t there.

A single rose on the coffee table caught her eye. Below it were a few papers and a folded note.

"Breakfast note?" she murmured, shifting to the edge of the bed with the sheet clutched over her chest.

The sheet slipped from her fingers when she noticed the black shirt draped over her shoulders. It still smelled like him. She vaguely remembered slipping into the water, but nothing after that.

She reached for the rose, dropped it into the half-empty water bottle beside the bed, then unfolded the note.

[I won’t be another weight on your shoulders. I’ve arranged for your friends to join you. Stay as long as you want. And when you’re ready, come back.]

Aveline read the words twice. They were too clean, too composed, every letter was pressed into the page like he hadn’t hesitated once.

He had left.

She sat at the edge of the bed, slowly exhaling.

Her body ached, not just from the intensity of the night, but from the sudden stillness left in its wake.

She should have been relieved. There would be no awkward conversation, no tangled emotions to unravel. It ended with a one-night stand. She could wash it off and move on with no guilt.

So why did she feel... hollow?

Not hurt. Not broken. Just... empty.

A quiet ache bloomed in her chest, not loud, not dramatic. Just there. Lingering.

Was this what she wanted? Was this the ’simple’ she asked for?

She looked through the other papers. One held a list of activities to do. Another was a full itinerary. The third had hotel information and safety contacts from Silvamus.

Everything was precise and well-prepared.

’Of course, he thought of everything.’

With the note, the papers, the rose, and her mobile, Aveline returned to her room at the hotel. She tucked the rose next to the other one, two red blooms that didn’t match the hollow hum inside her.

She got ready, almost robotically. She took a shower, ate breakfast, and smiled at the waitress. Her body moved as if she were following a set of instructions.

Only when she walked beside the river, sun warming her skin, the breeze brushing her hair, did she feel a flicker of real emotion.

She pulled her knees to her chest, sitting on a rock, her breath catching in her throat before she could stop it.

’This is what you wanted,’ she reminded herself. No strings. No promises. Just the night.

But it didn’t feel simple. Not with him.

The night had given her more than she meant to take. And in the space he left behind, something began to ache. Not guilt. Not regret. Something quieter. Something heavier.

Then she heard it. "Aveline!"

She turned to see two people waving at her. Kai and Julia, from Lesotho. Rich, clever, and hopelessly in love with each other since university.

Julia threw herself into a hug. Kai shoved his hands into his pockets, shaking his head. "I don’t even get half of this excitement."

"Ahh... I missed you, silly." Julia pulled back and looked at Aveline.

Aveline smiled, surprised by their appearance, but she wasn’t glowing as she used to.

Concern flickered in Julia’s eyes. "I heard you were... married and now divorced?"

"Rumor?" Kai asked, offering her a quick hug.

"True. I’m a divorcée." Aveline shrugged, but her voice was a beat too calm.

Kai and Julia exchanged a glance but didn’t push. Julia wanted to ask why they weren’t told about the wedding, but held back. Aveline’s silence said more than words could.

Misunderstanding her stillness as heartbreak, they didn’t press her for details. Instead, they pulled her into plans, following the recommended itinerary Alaric had left behind.

While the quiet of Silvanus soothed Aveline’s nerves, her friends’ gestures, Kai fixing Julia’s juice without asking, Julia looping arms with him, those pecks and playful giggles, reminded her of him.

Alaric.

He had respected her boundaries. He had read her well. He had kissed her like he could wait forever. Then he walked away like he meant it.

And yet she felt his presence even in his absence.

.....

In Velmora

Alaric stepped off the private jet at noon. Ezra greeted him with an update.

"Maxwell Ashford is Chairman again. Damien’s back and calling the shots. Charlie Harmon’s been released. According to sources, he’s planning to resign and leave the country. Linette Rowe met with a few shareholders with proof, but no one was listening to her. Damien’s paid them off."

Ezra paused, unsure whether to ask Alaric about leaving Aveline behind. But Alaric’s demeanor offered nothing.

"Damien planned to trap Daniel Anderson with a money drop," Ezra continued. "But Daniel slipped through. Vivienne Sinclair’s still quiet. No new videos." After a pause, he updated on NexGuard.

Alaric slid into the back of his Rolls Royce. "Simon Cladwell?"

"No movement. No one’s looked into Ms. Laurent recently. Security is holding steady."

Alaric opened his laptop, then paused. "Aveline?"

There was no call. No message from her. He didn’t regret the night, but that wasn’t what he wanted it to be.

He hadn’t walked away out of guilt. He walked away because staying, knowing she wasn’t ready, would be wrong. She deserved clarity. And he needed his feelings to be respected, not reduced to vacation therapy.

Ezra passed over the iPad. "Her friends have arrived. Everything’s quiet."

Alaric looked at the image. Aveline, sunglasses on, lounging in the back seat of the convertible. Feet propped up. Smile absent but calm.

He couldn’t read her. Not through a screen. But he hoped, he truly hoped, that she was enjoying herself in her much-needed break.

.....

At Ashford Holdings,

Though irritated by Daniel’s escape, Damien snickered while scrolling through Vivienne’s social media account. She hadn’t posted a follow-up video. That meant the situation was in his favor.

He dialed her. She picked up. "My Love..." He began.

[I won’t fall for your act, Damien.] She said flatly.

How could she fall for his act after how he treated her?

His jaw flexed. He had sent her an audio message yesterday: ’I’ve left Aveline as you have asked. I’m waiting for you.’

Vivienne had scoffed. [You divorced her to revoke the power of attorney, Damien. That’s all this is.]

Damien swallowed the burn in his throat. "My Love, I’ll explain everything. Let’s meet. Wherever you say." He tried to coax her.

[Then let me think about it.] She snorted and ended the call.

He barely stopped himself from smashing the phone. A lot of men were looking for her.

How was no one finding her?

His secretary set down the file. "Director Damien," he said carefully, "The law firm acquisition is complete. Ms. Reeve has sorted through all the case files Scarlett Fournier ever signed."

That made Damien pause.

He planned to instill fear in Scarlett before he could manipulate her in his favor. So he chose to visit the Prestige Associates.

.....

At Prestige Associates

The law firm’s entrance was all polished marble and gleaming brass, designed to intimidate and impress in equal measure.

A legal department in Ashford Holdings had become a subsidiary after acquiring the firm. So he was the direct managing director of the firm.

Clara Reeve, the newly appointed head lawyer, welcomed Damien with a practiced smile, flanked by other senior associates and partners. Their faces were carefully neutral, but Damien could sense the underlying tension.

Damien made a note that Scarlett wasn’t there. How could she be? She was still very new to the field, a junior associate.

After a brief tour with the upper management, Damien pushed open the frosted glass doors of the conference room as he instructed Clara, "Get Scarlett here."

Clara left, but what he didn’t expect was Scarlett already standing in the office, arms folded, eyes cool.

He expected fear, perhaps surprise, or maybe anger. But she was calm.

"I heard you bought us out," she said evenly. "So I came to welcome you, Damien."

She stressed the word ’Damien,’ then smoothed her jacket with deliberate precision, letting the silence stretch before she smiled awkwardly. "Look at me, I forgot you divorced my friend. My apologies, Director Ashford."

Damien felt it, a hint of mockery in her tone. But her expression revealed nothing. He settled into the leather seat, trying to regain control of the conversation.

He didn’t ask her to sit. Instead, he tried to lie smoothly, "I just got to know you work here, Ms. Fournier."

Scarlett replied snarkily, "Oh, is that so? You didn’t sound surprised when you instructed Ms. Reeve."

Damien’s jaw flexed at her response. Before he could formulate a reply, his phone buzzed, Simon’s name flashing on the screen.

He picked up. "What is it?"

Simon’s voice was low, grave. "Victor Hale has been arrested. If you’re playing behind the scenes and my name comes up, you’re next, Damien."

The blood drained from his face.

Scarlett tilted her head, studying his sudden paleness. "You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

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