Harrison stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, phone pressed to his ear, his posture straight and commanding. There was something about him—an irresistible magnetism that drew women in, impossible to ignore.
His expression was all sharp focus and authority; it was obvious the call concerned something important, and the ruthless decisiveness in his voice was captivating.
But the instant he heard Anastasia call his name, everything about him changed. In less than five seconds, he wrapped up the conversation, slipped his phone into his pocket, and strode across the room to her, gathering her into his arms.
“Who was bothering you?” His deep, resonant voice carried a dangerous chill.
Standing nearby, Logan had no doubt—if Anastasia even whispered a name, whoever it was would pay dearly for it.
But Anastasia simply wrapped her arms around his strong waist and buried her face against him. “Some girls at school look down on me. They’re spreading rumors, saying you’re just my sugar daddy, and that I only call you my boyfriend to cover it up. No one believes me…”
She looked up at him, her beautiful eyes shining with unshed tears, her lips trembling in wounded frustration.
Harrison hesitated, his jaw tightening.
After a moment, he said quietly, “I’ll have Lionel deal with anyone spreading lies about you.”
But Anastasia pouted, clearly dissatisfied. “Sure, they might stop saying it out loud, but it won’t change what they think.”
Of course, Harrison saw right through her. He lowered his gaze, regarding his young wife with a soft sigh. “So, Ana, what do you want to do?”
Her eyes lit up, hope flooding her face. “There’s this girl, Shirley, she’s the one telling everyone you’re just my sponsor, that we’re not actually together. She said she’d only believe it if I brought you to meet her. She’s throwing a party in three days. Hubby, will you come with me?”
Harrison’s eyes darkened. “Ana, we’ve talked about this…”
She knew exactly what he was about to say—that he didn’t want her to endure any more gossip. So she cut him off.
“But they’re already talking!” she protested, meeting his gaze without flinching. “And I’m not afraid of people knowing about us. Honestly, I wish the whole world knew you’re my husband!”
Now Shirley was here in Fairhaven, hosting a lavish party and inviting them all. How could they pass up a chance to get on her good side?
Helen, recently promoted to Shirley’s favorite lackey, was of course in attendance. She wore a dress she’d practically emptied her bank account to buy, and clutched a glass of champagne she swirled with practiced elegance, trying to slip into the exclusive circles of socialites.
She tried a few times to join their conversations, but every attempt fell flat. After glancing anxiously at the entrance, she spoke up, “Where is Anastasia, anyway? Don’t tell me she chickened out?”
The mention of that name finally caught the attention of a few Fairhaven heiresses. They glanced at Helen, but only for a second—she was hardly worth their time. Sycophantic as they were toward Shirley, Helen barely registered to them.
No matter how much Helen pretended, how many etiquette classes she might have crammed for before tonight, real class was something you couldn’t fake. They spotted the difference immediately and had no intention of lowering themselves to talk to her.
After that brief glance, their attention shifted back to Shirley. “Wait, Shirley, you actually invited Anastasia tonight?”
Shirley’s lips curled into a sly smile. “Of course I did. Tonight, Anastasia is the guest of honor.”
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Revenge is My Love Language