Revenge is My Love Language novel Chapter 39

Harrison took the pen, and with a calm, deliberate hand, signed his name at the bottom of the document. For a moment, he seemed almost solemn, as if he truly meant every word Anastasia had said—though perhaps it was just her imagination.

Logan hesitated, wanting to say something about how young women these days were masterful at sweet-talking, spinning tales that could charm anyone, and how one shouldn’t take their words at face value so easily! But seeing the rare good mood on Mr. Lancaster’s face, he thought better of it and kept quiet.

Upstairs in her room, Anastasia slipped off her shoes and changed out of her evening dress. She couldn't help but smile, thinking about Harrison’s unexpected concern for her. The corners of her lips lifted in a way she couldn’t hide.

Once she’d tidied herself up, she turned to the bouquet of flowers on her table—already wilting a little. Carefully, she took them out of the vase, planning to press them into bookmarks. After all, it was the very first bouquet Harrison had ever given her; it meant something, and she wasn’t about to simply throw it away.

But her good mood didn’t last long.

She remembered clearly—there had been ninety-nine roses at first. She’d counted them herself. There were still ninety-nine now, but nearly half had been swapped out! Someone had replaced the rare roses with ordinary ones of a similar color.

Anastasia’s face darkened. Clutching the bouquet, she strode out of her room.

Downstairs, she called the household staff together, her tone sharp and cold.

“Who touched my flowers?”

The maids exchanged nervous glances. “Ma’am, we didn’t touch them. Is something wrong with the bouquet?”

Anastasia didn’t answer right away. Her icy gaze swept across the room, pausing suddenly.

“May.”

Everyone’s eyes turned to May.

May lowered her head, her face paling as she stepped forward. “Ma’am, I didn’t do anything to your flowers!”

Gritting her teeth, May muttered, “I took them out and gave them to someone…”

“Gave them away?” Anastasia let out a cold laugh. “And who gave you the right to touch my things—let alone give them away?”

Alice stepped forward. “Ma’am, it was just a few flowers. You didn’t seem to care much about them, so why make such a fuss?”

Anastasia settled herself on the sofa, fixing Alice with an unblinking gaze. “Hasn’t Mary taught you how to speak to me?”

Alice stiffened.

“I’m the lady of this house. Those flowers belonged to me, and it’s up to me to decide what happens to them—not you.” Anastasia didn’t bother hiding her displeasure.

Ignoring Alice, Anastasia turned to Mary, who had just come over. “Mary, what’s the rule here at Rosewood Manor? How should something like this be handled?”