Echoes of Vengeance: The Sweet Wife's Perfect Revenge
Chapter 122: Regret and Revelation

Chapter 122: Regret and Revelation

At the restaurant,

Isabella paused at the sight of Aveline. There was no doubt, she was impressed.

Maybe it was the way Aveline looked, or how she sat calm and confident in the morning at the cafe. Maybe it was how she carried herself, or how she hadn’t lost her composure even once.

Even the way Aveline made her wait, or said straight to her face that she should be speaking with Alaric instead, didn’t bother her.

Because Aveline didn’t owe her anything. She didn’t have to flatter her. She didn’t have to bow down.

And somehow, Isabella couldn’t find a single thing to blame her for. Because that’s how strong women are.

Everything about Aveline was... impeccable.

Even Isabella didn’t know why exactly she didn’t want this girl around Alaric. It wasn’t because Aveline was married before. Was it?

Maybe she was just against Alaric getting involved with someone who wasn’t even divorced back then. But now Aveline was free.

So what was she still holding on to?

The realization left a bitter taste in her mouth. No matter how much she tried to deny it, Isabella knew the reason.

It was because the moment Aveline entered Alaric’s life, he had filed a restraining order against her.

Her own son.

Would he have done that if Aveline wasn’t in his life?

She doubted it. Because Alaric didn’t do that to protect himself. He did it to protect Aveline from her.

Isabella turned her eyes away from Aveline and looked at her own reflection in the glass wall.

Did she look like someone who would hurt Aveline for his interest in her?

No. She didn’t think so.

But the fact that Alaric did think that way felt like a dagger stabbing her heart.

Before her thoughts could spiral any further, a voice called out from the staircase. "Bella...?"

She turned around to find Edward coming downstairs. When he reached her, his back was toward Aveline.

He blinked slowly. "Waiting for me? The car is right there." He pointed his chin toward where their car was waiting.

Isabella smiled lightly. A soft, practiced smile. But her fingers reached out for his arm on their own.

More than anyone, more than even Alaric, Isabella felt guilty toward Edward.

Because she was the one who had made him promise not to interfere with how she treated Alaric. Not to explain anything to Alaric. To stay silent, even when their son was walking away from them.

Because when Alaric was born, she feared one day Nicholas and Alaric would fight over the company and thirst for each other’s blood. That if she gave more attention to Alaric, Nicholas would turn on him.

So she gave everything to Nicholas. And kept Alaric at a distance.

It had felt right back then. But now?

Now, she could see how wrong it was. And there was no undoing any of it.

Holding onto Edward’s arm, she walked toward the exit. But she looked back once.

At Aveline.

The girl who wasn’t loud or aggressive. She didn’t even react when their eyes met. She just sat there, quiet and steady, like someone who didn’t need to fight to be strong.

As they stepped outside, Isabella exhaled. Then softly, as if asking herself, she said, "Honey, do you like Aveline Laurent?"

Edward knew Isabella had been uneasy for days about Alaric being interested in a married woman. But now that Aveline was divorced, he had even more reason to stand by his son.

"I don’t need to know Aveline Laurent to have an opinion on her," he said gently. "The fact that she’s Ric’s choice is more than enough to accept her as family."

She nodded slowly, understanding his point of view. It was something she always admired about Edward, how he looked at people through emotion, not judgment of character or past.

He opened the car door for her, and she got in. He followed, settling beside her.

Watching that soft smile on his face, Isabella raised an eyebrow. "If they really end up together, the father-in-law would spoil her no less than her own father." She was well aware of how much Henry overindulged his daughter.

He chuckled. "No chance," he replied smoothly. "Ric is there to indulge her. I’ve got you to pamper."

Isabella laughed, the sound soft and light, like a burden lifting off her chest.

Maybe she had been too harsh. Maybe it was reckless to meet Aveline in the morning. But now, something inside her felt settled. She could accept Alaric’s choice because the truth was, Aveline hadn’t pushed Alaric away from her.

She had pushed Alaric away from herself.

The restraining order wasn’t about Aveline. It was because of what she had done. Her own actions. Her fear. Her mistakes.

She leaned into Edward, resting her head gently on his arm as the silence stretched between them.

In a whisper that trembled just a little, she said, "Why did we... my son and I... walk into your lives so late? Just three months earlier... Alaric wouldn’t have been Aveline’s second husband. And six years earlier... I wouldn’t have been your second wife."

Edward looked down at her, a smile touching his eyes. "Well," he murmured with a playful grin, "if you came six years earlier, I might’ve had a heart attack trying to keep up with you."

Isabella laughed, hiding her face in his arm.

And for the first time in a long while, it didn’t feel like everything had gone wrong.

Some things had simply taken... time.

...

Late at night, the streets of Velmora were nearly deserted. A few cars passed by quietly, headlights flashing across the empty roads. Streetlights flickered above, casting pale yellow light over the sidewalks.

A black Honda slowed down and stopped in front of a medical store. From the passenger seat, a woman got out with a hood pulled over her head, loose pants swaying as she walked. A mask covered most of her face.

’Knock... knock... knock...’

She knocked on the counter impatiently, waking the sleepy shopkeeper dozing behind the counter. "I want two pregnancy test kits," she said sharply.

The voice belonged to Vivienne Sinclair.

Before the shopkeeper could respond, a tall man stepped inside. Rugged, lean, and watchful, he leaned casually against the glass wall and said in a calm tone, "You’re overreacting."

Vivienne turned to him with a frown. "I waited the whole day. I never miss my periods," she snapped.

After spending fifteen days with only her bodyguard for company, the lines of formality between them had vanished.

"You’re stressed," he said simply.

Vivienne bit her lip and instructed the shopkeeper, "Make it four kits. And tampons too."

The bodyguard, Jeff, didn’t respond. He kept his eyes on the street. The search for Vivienne had intensified right after the first video, like she was some dangerous criminal on the loose.

But she had stayed low, continuing to upload the pre-recorded videos.

The first four videos had just scratched the surface. The fifth video was personal, how she had once seen Aveline at a designer boutique in Velmora. Vivienne had arrived earlier but got no special treatment, while Aveline was immediately led to a private room.

Out of jealousy, Vivienne had shouted at the manager, demanding the same dress Aveline picked. Aveline had quietly let her take it, even after paying for it. An act Vivienne had seen as charity back then. But now, she understood. It was an apology.

The sixth video talked about how Vivienne realized it was never about money. It was status. Even if she offered the same price, the world tilted in Aveline’s favor.

The seventh one revealed how she had started manipulating Damien into marriage, not knowing it was his idea all along.

She didn’t mention Aveline and Damien’s names, but the truth wasn’t far off.

Now, Jeff had agreed to bring her out because things had finally calmed down.

Once she had her things, they drove back to Jeff’s place. It was a modest apartment in an older part of town. Clean. Neat. But barely furnished beyond the basics.

His gym room had become her bedroom ever since she was thrown out of Obsidian after her notice period ended. And no, he wasn’t letting her stay for free. She did the laundry, shared the food bills, and took care of house chores.

The moment they reached home, Vivienne rushed to her room and straight into the bathroom.

Jeff turned on the TV and slouched on the couch. News channels were flooded with stories about Alaric Lancaster and Vantex. The reporters had camped at NexGuard all day, desperate for a glimpse or comment from Alaric.

’Ahhhh...’

Then he heard it, a loud shriek from her room.

His instincts kicked in. He leaped over the couch and rushed to her door, thinking something serious had happened. But as he stood in front of the bathroom, he stopped.

’Of course. The test.’

The bathroom door flew open, and Vivienne came out squealing, waving two pregnancy tests. "I told you! I told you I’m pregnant! I never miss my periods!"

She was jumping in victory, celebrating like she had just won against Damien.

Jeff, however, just returned to the living room and slouched on the couch, unimpressed.

Vivienne was still the same. Ungrateful, unfaithful, and never satisfied. All she could think about was the Ashford title, the money, and how to use this pregnancy to her advantage.

Not once did she stop to think she was going to be a mother.

As Vivienne passed by, his gaze dropped to her flat stomach.

’You haven’t even been born, and already... I pity you,’ he thought.