Chapter 139

Sitting directly across from the door, the girl tucked away her phone with an air of nonchalance, then lifted her gaze. A faint, beautiful smile curved her lips, but her eyes were cold and unsettling, dark as a midnight lake.
Nora’s pupils shrank in shock. She stumbled backward, stammering, “How did you-”
How had Anastasia not fallen for it?
Did the scented candles not work?
Her eyes darted to the corner, and when she saw the broken remains of the incense stick, her heart plummeted.
As she stared at Anastasia, who looked perfectly composed, a surge of dread gripped her. Instinctively, she turned to run-
But it was already too late.
Anastasia lunged forward, seized her by the arm, and yanked her inside. With a sharp slam, the door snapped shut behind them.
“Mrs. Sinclair, why are you running? Weren’t you the one who invited me here for a little chat?”
Unhurried but forceful, Anastasia dragged her across the room and slammed Nora’s head down onto the desk.
Before Nora could react, Anastasia reached for a glass of wine that had been sitting on the table, already poured and waiting.
Nora’s eyes went wide with terror at the sight of it.
Her lips twisted into a forced, ugly smile. “Anastasia, what are you doing? Let me
go! Your father will be furious if he finds out-!”
Oh, still pretending, even now?
Anastasia let out a cold, mocking laugh.
“Didn’t you prepare this drink yourself? Why so scared now, hmm?”
She held Nora down and forced the wine down her throat.
Nora’s expression was pure panic and despair.
Once the glass was empty, Anastasia hauled her up and tossed her onto the bed like a discarded rag doll.
Smiling sweetly, she murmured, “Mrs. Sinclair, you arranged such a lovely scene -seems only fair you get to play the leading lady. No need to thank me; some of us just like to do good deeds.”
With that, she strode briskly out the door.
“No, no—!” Nora tried to scramble off the bed, but the drug was already taking hold. Her mind began to slip away.
Outside, Anastasia’s eyes were icy.
In her last life, she’d noticed something wrong with the incense, but by then it was too late-her strength had drained away. Nora had forced that same glass of wine down her throat, then sent in a bloated, lecherous man.
She’d fought back with everything she had, refusing to let him touch her, barely holding out until Harrison arrived…
She’d managed to keep the man at bay, but Nora’s scheme had worked: Harrison had been left with the impression that she’d rather be with a man like that than let him get close. His gaze had grown colder, crueler. She’d been so disgusted with him back then, she hadn’t even tried to explain. Tʜe source of this ᴄontent ɪs
It had all started because Penelope had visited Rosewood Manor by chance, seen how Harrison spoiled her, and, consumed by jealousy, set out to ruin her.
This time, it was different. Nora hated her for making her look foolish, and now mother and daughter both disgusted her.
Anastasia turned and left.
This time, she wasn’t going to let Nora’s chosen man anywhere near. There was a far better candidate.
Five minutes later, Hugh Archer-Mrs. Archer’s husband-crept up to the door, his expression shifty and eager.
He let out a greasy chuckle. “Nora, I’m here!”
He slipped into the room.
In the shadows, Anastasia smiled faintly. She stepped forward and swiftly turned the key, locking the door behind him.
Downstairs, in the grand hall, the party was in full swing.
Penelope checked her watch for the third time.
Strange. Why hadn’t her mother come down yet?
The time they’d agreed on was almost up, and still no sign of Nora. Penelope clenched her jaw.
Maybe her mother had been held up. If so, she’d have to step in herself.
Feigning nonchalance, she made a show of wandering upstairs, then, two minutes later, came hurrying down, her face tight with worry.
“Crystal! Something’s wrong! It’s my sister-!”