Revenge is My Love Language novel Chapter 118

Nora’s face darkened instantly.

She cursed Anastasia inwardly—this damn girl wasn’t as easy to fool as she used to be. At the same time, she was furious at her own mother’s stupidity.

She finally realized that when it came to trading words with Anastasia, she never stood a chance. No matter what she said, this brat always had a comeback ready to shut her down.

Swallowing her anger, she turned to the Sinclairs. “I’ve found you a place. Start packing your things, now!”

Julian complained, “How the hell are we supposed to pack, sis? That little snake Anastasia took everything worth a damn in this house. All we’re allowed to carry out is this pile of junk!”

He spat in Anastasia’s direction. “What, you marry some big-shot old geezer and now you think you’re queen of the world?”

He sneered, “Give it a few years. Once that old man kicks the bucket, we’ll see how high and mighty you are—”

Anastasia’s gaze went cold as ice. Courting death, are you?

“Teach him some manners,” she said, voice sharp.

Two bodyguards stepped forward without hesitation, yanked Julian up, and slapped him—hard, twice, echoing through the room.

“Aaah—!” Julian howled, caught off guard. Blood filled his mouth; a tooth went flying.

“Dad!”

“Honey!”

“My poor boy—!”

The Sinclairs shrieked in horror.

Nora’s expression changed in an instant. “Anastasia—! What do you think you’re doing?!”

“What am I doing? Teaching him how to talk, of course.” Anastasia’s face was set like stone; her voice was pure frost.

Julian clutched his face, half-crying, “What did I say wrong? That old man—”

Anastasia’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Go on.”

Smack!

“Agh!”

“What? Mrs. Sinclair, do you want to try it, too? I’d be happy to oblige,” Anastasia replied, voice smooth but loaded with threat.

Nora froze mid-sentence.

Judging from Anastasia’s tone, she had no doubt the girl would follow through.

Ever since marrying into Rosewood Manor, Anastasia had become absolutely untouchable.

Nora glanced uneasily at the eight disciplined bodyguards standing by. Swallowing her humiliation and rage, she forced herself to ask, “Fine. Forget all that. Where’s your uncle’s family’s belongings?”

She recognized the sad heap tossed onto the floor—just the old luggage the Sinclairs had brought with them when they first arrived in Fairhaven. Every item was more worthless than the last; if they took it with them, it’d be straight to the dumpster. Who knew how her mother had managed to keep it all these years?

“Those things? Don’t even think about it,” Anastasia replied coldly. “Have you forgotten? The Sinclair family still owes me eight million dollars.”

“I gave you three days to come up with the money, and clearly, you’ve decided not to pay, haven’t you?”

Nora’s jaw clenched. “You know exactly what your uncle’s family is facing. If you force them to pay eight million, you’ll be driving them to ruin. Is that what you want?”

“Oh, well, if they can’t pay, then ruin it is.” Anastasia reclined gracefully in her chair, her voice sweet but brooking no argument. “All I want is for every cent you stole from me back then—every single dollar—returned to me, in full.”