Chapter 61

The guests, who had been holding their breath like nervous schoolchildren caught misbehaving, finally found their voices. They hurried to plaster on smiles and assured, “No, not at all.”
Gradually, the lively chatter returned to the grand hall, but the atmosphere had shifted. People still spoke and laughed, yet their glances kept drifting—almost involuntarily toward that side of the room. ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ
Mr. Lancaster.
Even seated in his wheelchair and rarely uttering a word, the man radiated such a commanding presence that you could feel the intensity from across the room. His aura was so formidable, people unconsciously lowered their voices as if afraid to disturb him.
And Anastasia—she’d suddenly become the talk of every woman in attendance.
Who would have guessed? Not long ago, she’d been the object of their ridicule, someone everyone looked down on. Now, she was the one they envied, the one they desperately wanted to befriend.
After all, this was Mr. Lancaster. The same man they’d all gossiped about- marrying into Rosewood Manor was supposed to be a tragedy, wasn’t it? But really, who among them didn’t secretly wish it was their own fate?
Even if the rumors were true-even if he wouldn’t live past thirty-marrying him meant a life of luxury and endless advantages.
And those whispers about him being old and hideous? All lies. In person, Mr. Lancaster was more striking and magnetic than any celebrity.
The party drew to a close amid this strange, electric tension.
It was only then that Anastasia seemed to remember something. She strolled over
to the poolside, feigning surprise as she called out, “Oh dear, did I forget about you all? I’m so sorry!”
Those stranded in the water, who had been clinging to hope for rescue, were nearly moved to tears with relief—until they heard her words. Their elation turned instantly to fury.
Penelope and Aaron, utterly exhausted, couldn’t hold on any longer. Just before passing out, Penelope managed to crawl to the edge, grabbing Anastasia’s ankle with the last of her strength, her breath ragged and eyes blazing with accusation.
“Anastasia! Did you… did you do this on purpose?”
Anastasia put on her most innocent, bewildered look and gazed down at her. “What? Of course not! I just saw you now, Penelope. How did you end up in there? Were you careless? You really ought to watch your step.”
“You-!” Penelope’s eyes rolled back as she fainted away, though whether it was from the heat or sheer indignation was anyone’s guess.
With a little flick of her foot, Anastasia shook Penelope’s hand off her ankle, then turned away with a light heart and returned to Harrison’s side. “Let’s go home, darling!”
As they left, chaos erupted among the Lancasters over Aaron’s collapse.
Debby, eyes brimming with tears, was frantically directing people as they carried Aaron inside.
As Anastasia passed by, she paused deliberately, casting a glance at Aaron’s unconscious form. With a tone of sincere concern, she said, “I do hope he pulls through. Wouldn’t want him to die just yet.”
After all, she wasn’t finished settling the score. If he died now, it would be far too easy on him.
Debby paled at such ominous words, her face drained of color. “You-!” Anastasia shot her a sidelong look, her lips curving into a smile that never reached her eyes. “Take care of yourself too, Mrs. Lancaster.”
Though her words sounded caring, the chill behind them was unmistakable.
Watching Debby, trembling yet unable to voice her anger, Anastasia walked away with a spring in her step.
She rejoined Harrison, her voice sweet as honey. “Let’s go, darling!”
But Harrison didn’t look pleased. His expression was unreadable, his mood impossible to guess, and something about his silence made her uneasy.
“Darling?” Anastasia ventured, watching him carefully.
“Do you like Aaron?”
Anastasia froze, caught completely off guard.