Semua Bab Revenge Becomes Her: Bab 121 - Bab 130

In the hallway.Fallon laughs, “I can see you don’t remember me? We met briefly in the Farwell Group when I brought coffee to Mr. Farwell’s office,” she explains.Noel held the back of his neck in shame. He remembers her clearly, but is unsure why he acted stupidly. “I’m just messing with you, Mrs… I mean… Fallon. Of course, I remember.”All he knew was that he felt a familiarity with her, that he could joke around with her.Meanwhile, inside the GROOM 'S SUITEAllan stood by the minibar, pouring himself a shot of bourbon despite the early hour. Ethan sat on the couch, elbows resting on his knees, silent.“What a goddamn circus last night was. That Nathan motherfucking Kingsley sure is a bastard." Allan muttered harshly.Ethan didn't respond.“I mean, you don’t look like a man getting married today,” Allan added, turning to face him. “You look like a man walking toward the gallows.”Ethan chuckled darkly but said nothing.Then—Knock. Knock.They both turned.The doorknob twists, and

Madam Farwell sat in the living room, trying futilely to relax with a novel. Her fingers trembled slightly against the pages, her jaw tense. Ever since Ethan announced his wedding, a storm had brewed beneath her polished demeanor. To her, it wasn’t a celebration. It was a catastrophe in a white dress.Her fleeting sense of tranquility shattered when a maid tiptoed in and announced, “The young master is here, Madam.”Startled, Madam Farwell snapped her book shut. Her eyes narrowed. He better not have brought that woman with him. The sound of two sets of footsteps echoed down the hallway. She didn’t even wait to see who it was.“I told you not to bring that woman here!” she barked.Fallon froze mid-step. Her hand went to her chest instinctively, her breath catching. Confused, she glanced at Ethan. “What did I do?” she thought in silent panic.She turned, ready to walk away, but Ethan gently grabbed her wrist and leaned in, whispering, “She’s not talking about you.”Then louder, “Grandma

The moment Fallon and Nathan left the manor, Ethan hurriedly called Brooke not to check or locate Rebecca but to dig deeper into Fallon’s background.“Brooke,” Ethan muttered.“Working on it, boss. I’m checking all possible cameras that caught what happened—”“Change of plans. I need you to dig deeper into Fallon Kingsley.” Ethan cut him off.Brooke gasped, “The lawyer’s wife again? Why?” he questioned. Ethan stared out into the dark, “She said something tonight… something strange.”He replayed the words in his head.~I hope our baby looks like Nathan. If they look like me… then they won’t really look like me.~“What does that mean?” Ethan whispered to himself.His grip tightens around the phone.“Whatever you find, I want it on my desk by morning.” He demanded, then ended the call.Behind him, Madam Farwell stood by the sitting room archway, watching her grandson.“Ethan… are you sick? You’re not yourself.” She asked gently as she patted his back.Ethan turned slowly, his face blank

Like the pull of a merciless current, chaos dragged everything beneath the surface. No matter how hard Silas tried to silence the media and spin his way out of disaster, the fallout from Sophia’s catastrophic wedding and Rebecca’s sudden disappearance had already sent shockwaves through high society.The Hawke name—once spoken with envy—now dripped from lips laced with pity and contempt. They had become a cautionary tale, a dynasty collapsing in real time. Silas’s grand promises to investors—to double, even triple their profits—had curdled into lawsuits and betrayal. The threats he had once wielded like a sword against small businesses using the Farwell Group’s weight now cut back at him with savage precision.One after another, lawsuits flew in. From every direction.Each breach, every falsified deal, every coerced signature tied to Walton Unlimited is now exposed in the harsh, unrelenting light of public scrutiny.From the comfort of her estate, Madam Kingsley watched it all unfold.

ELIOT’S OFFICE – NIGHTThe room is dimly lit, quiet, and still. Rain taps gently against the windowpane. A tray of food rests in Eliot’s hands as he walks in and sets it on the small table beside his wife, Harlene, who’s waiting with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The hum of the overhead light is the only sound filling the space.Eliot takes a seat beside her. The room feels too small for the weight in the air.“I heard from one of the nurses…” Harlene began, her voice soft, tentative, like a whisper not meant to be heard by the walls. “Another member of Hawke’s family was confined in the VIP ward.”Eliot doesn’t look up. Just hums, the metal of his cutlery clinking faintly as he picks it up.“This time it’s the mother,” Harlene says, a little firmer now. “Rebecca.”Eliot nods once. Slow. Measured. But his shoulders tense ever so slightly.Harlene watches him closely, then leans in.“D…do you think it has something to do with… Sherah's death?” she asks, almost afraid to say t