Revenge is My Love Language novel Chapter 122

Mr. Harrison Lancaster had forbidden her from coming near the main house, but today, driven by curiosity about Anastasia’s supposed misery, Alice couldn’t resist sneaking over.

Before long, Mr. Harrison Lancaster returned.

Alice hurried outside, unable to hide the hopeful smile tugging at her lips—but the smile froze as soon as she saw the scene before her.

—It was nothing like she’d imagined!

Anastasia wasn’t covered in blood. She wasn’t sobbing or begging Mr. Harrison Lancaster not to throw her out. In fact, he was carrying her gently out of the car, cradling her as if she were some priceless treasure.

Not only was he far from angry—his entire demeanor radiated care and protectiveness.

—Had Thomas lied to her?!

Wasn’t Anastasia supposed to have barged into a room where Mr. Harrison Lancaster was dealing with someone, and hadn’t she supposedly shown fear and disgust toward him, infuriating him in the process?

Alice clenched her fists, frustration prickling at her palms, and stepped forward despite herself. “Mr. Lancaster…”

Harrison’s gaze turned icy in an instant. He looked first to the woman in his arms. Seeing that she only furrowed her brows faintly in her sleep, undisturbed, the cold violence in his eyes barely receded.

His expression was severe as he strode inside, motioning wordlessly to Logan behind him.

Logan understood at once.

“Mr. Lancaster—” Alice began, but before she could say more, a hand clamped over her mouth, muffling her words. She struggled as she was dragged toward the guest wing, her wide eyes pleading for mercy. Yet Harrison never spared her a single glance. All of his attention was focused on the girl in his arms, terrified that any noise might wake her.

He carried Anastasia to the master bedroom and laid her gently on his own bed.

Leaning over her, his eyes were dark and intense, brimming with a barely restrained possessiveness—a dangerous hunger that he fought to keep in check. The hand he placed on her furrowed brow was so gentle, so careful, as if he feared he might break something irreplaceable.

If his young wife woke up now, would she be frightened of him again?

A soft knock sounded at the door. Logan’s voice came through in a low whisper, “Mr. Lancaster, there’s an emergency in Riverton—”

Harrison snapped back to reality, his features sharpening as he prepared to leave.

She clung to him with all her strength, terrified that this—her second chance—was nothing but a fleeting dream.

“What happened? Did you have a nightmare?”

“Yes… a terrible one…”

She had dreamed of the moment from her previous life when he’d saved her.

The car was about to explode. Someone had dragged her out, shielding her with their own body.

There’d been a deafening blast, flames roaring skyward, heat sweeping over everything in a tidal wave.

She’d lost consciousness in the chaos. In her final moment of awareness, she hadn’t been able to see her rescuer’s face—just the blurry silhouette of someone drenched in blood, the only thing she could feel was the warmth of his blood dripping onto her.

Back then, Harrison had already been betrayed by his own men. He’d lost a leg. Walking was a struggle for him every day. She couldn’t begin to imagine how he’d fought his way to her, or how, with such pain, he’d managed to drag her out of that burning car…