Login via

Revenge is My Love Language novel Chapter 342

Shirley snapped back to reality, her heart pounding with shock and excitement.

Mr. Harrison Lancaster had actually come. He was really here—for her.

Nearly losing her composure, she hurried forward. “Uncle Harrison—”

But before she could reach him, someone else darted past, swift as a shadow, and threw herself straight into the man’s arms.

“Darling!”

Anastasia’s face was alight with joy as she wrapped her arms around Harrison, gazing up at him with eyes bright as the night sky. “I knew you’d come for me!”

Wait—what?

The grand ballroom fell into an instant, stunned silence. Shirley froze mid-step, her breath caught in her throat.

Every guest stared wide-eyed at the pair locked in a familiar embrace, as if unable to trust their ears—or their eyes.

Did Anastasia just call Mr. Harrison Lancaster...

Darling? Husband?!

Harrison lowered his gaze to the radiant young woman clinging to him. For a man known for his cold, iron will, his heart unexpectedly softened—a rare warmth, touched with helpless affection, flickered in his eyes.

“How could I not come?” His voice was low, but gentle.

He hadn’t agreed at first. In fact, when she left that morning, he’d made a point of showing his disapproval by heading out for business himself. Still, he knew her stubborn streak all too well. The thought of her facing trouble alone, of anyone daring to bully her, was simply unbearable.

She must have guessed what he’d do. Maybe she’d even orchestrated it, just to force his hand. Yet, even knowing he’d been manipulated, Harrison found himself utterly unable to be angry. Looking at his bright-eyed wife, all he could feel was helpless indulgence.

“You got what you wanted?” he teased softly, gently tugging her earlobe in a gesture so tender it revealed his true feelings. “Then it’s time to go home.”

Anastasia snapped out of her daze. Leave now? Not a chance—there were still faces to be put in their place!

Suddenly, Shirley felt as if a mountain had dropped onto her shoulders. Her scalp tingled with dread, her knees weakened beneath the weight of Harrison Lancaster’s silent authority.

Cold sweat beaded on her brow. “…Uncle Harrison?”

Had she said something wrong?

“Who gave you permission to call him ‘darling’?” Anastasia’s voice rang out, sharp and disdainful. She clung to Harrison, her posture proud and possessive.

Shirley’s face darkened. “Mr. Harrison Lancaster is my Uncle Harrison. I have every right to call him that—I don’t need your permission. Who do you think you are—”

Before she could finish, Harrison’s icy gaze sliced toward her, so frigid and merciless it felt like a death sentence.

“Who do you think you are, to speak to her like that?”

The chilling authority in Harrison’s voice sent a wave of terror through Shirley, freezing the very blood in her veins.

Reading History

No history.

Comments

The readers' comments on the novel: Revenge is My Love Language