Chapter 135

But the three hundred million in her account-that part was absolutely true. Anastasia had stumbled upon that secret in her past life, quite by accident.
She never figured out where Nora got all that money, but one thing was clear: it wasn’t exactly clean. Otherwise, why would Nora be so obsessed with hiding it, tucking it away with such paranoid caution?
Anastasia was betting Nora would never dare reveal the true source of those funds to Gabriel. So, she’d have to swallow her anger and accept the blame Anastasia had just thrown her way-handing over the three hundred million without a word of protest.
Sliding her phone into her purse, Anastasia stood and dashed upstairs. Her steps were light; her dress fluttered around her knees. She’d barely reached the landing before she crashed-unexpected and breathless-into the strong, solid chest of a man. His familiar scent filled her senses, soothing and intoxicating all at once.
“Darling she murmured, blinking up in surprise.
A muscular arm slid around her waist, steadying her. His chest rumbled with a low chuckle, and then his deep, magnetic voice rumbled above her head.
“Careless,” he murmured.
Just one word, soft but mildly reproachful. At the same time, his big hand gave her waist a gentle smack.
“You hit me?” she protested, pouting as she looked up at him, eyes full of mock accusation.
“What mischief have you been up to?” Harrison barely glanced at her, but his lips curved ever so slightly as he took her hand and led her back downstairs, steering the conversation away.
Anastasia was helpless to resist his momentum. She launched into an animated retelling of how she’d managed to corner Nora, making no effort to hide the sly, less-than-innocent side of herself in front of him.
When she finished, she glanced up anxiously. “Do you think I was wrong, darling?”
Harrison almost laughed. If that counted as “wrong,” then he’d surely be damned for eternity.
“Not at all,” he replied, voice calm and even. “If someone tries to hurt you, fighting back is only natural.”
Anastasia let out a quiet sigh of relief, her eyes brightening, the worry gone from her face.
Watching her, Harrison’s gaze darkened, just for a moment.
She was so pure and radiant, so dazzlingly bright-there wasn’t a single speck of darkness in her. Just pulling a little stunt like this was enough to make her anxious and guilty.
She was nothing like him.
Anastasia didn’t notice his expression. Her mind was elsewhere, wondering just how far Logan had gone with his orders. Had he broken one of Elder Mrs. Sinclair and Julian’s legs, or both?
The Sinclairs were so repulsive, just one broken leg hardly seemed like justice…
Maybe she should sneak out and finish the job herself. ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ
“It’s time for your medicine,” Harrison said suddenly.
Anastasia snapped out of her thoughts, the tips of her ears flushing pink. Okay.”
***
A week later, Anastasia received an invitation.
It was from the Archers, one of the most prominent families in Fairhaven.
Mr. Archer’s seventieth birthday would be celebrated in three days’ time.
Logan, noticing how long she stared at the invitation, said, “If you don’t wish to attend, madam, you can simply ignore it.”
Rosewood Manor received invitations like this all the time, and Mr. Harrison Lancaster never spared them a glance.
“No, I’ll go,” Anastasia replied, coming back to herself. She smiled faintly, though her eyes were icy cold.
Logan looked surprised. After a pause, he said, “If I remember correctly, your stepmother and Mrs. Archer are very close friends.”
Just days ago, she’d made Nora suffer a huge loss—if she showed up at this party, Nora would almost certainly look for a chance to strike back.
“Let her try,” Anastasia said, flicking the invitation aside with a dangerous, frosty smile. “She doesn’t scare me.”
Logan’s guess was dead on: Nora was planning something, and Anastasia already knew exactly what it was.
After all, it had happened once before-her last time around.