Revenge is My Love Language novel Chapter 442

A hand suddenly clamped tightly around her wrist.

“Ah!” The maid beside her let out a startled cry.

Anastasia spun around.

The man lying in the bed—when had he opened his eyes?

He was still terribly weak, his gaze barely able to focus, lids half-lowered as if trying to make out her face through a haze.

“He’s awake!” the maid squealed, her voice trembling with joy.

Awake?

Mr. Evert and Lauren, who had already reached the door, whipped around in shock.

“Oh, thank heavens!” The butler was so overwhelmed he looked ready to burst into tears.

The man’s lips moved.

His voice was so faint, no one could make out the words.

But his cloudy gaze remained fixed on Anastasia, as if the words were meant for her.

She bent down, her tone gentle. “What is it? What do you want to say?”

“Was it you… who saved me?” His voice was raw and barely above a whisper, the result of too many days lost to illness.

Anastasia’s relief was genuine; she smiled warmly. “Yes. But don’t try to talk now. Your body is still extremely weak. Focus on resting and following the treatment—I promise, you’ll be back on your feet soon.”

She tried to gently pull her wrist free. “Could you let go of my hand for now?”

It was odd—despite how frail he was, his grip on her wrist had been surprisingly strong, as if he’d summoned every ounce of strength just to hold on.

At her request, his fingers slowly loosened. “…All right.”

Anastasia exhaled and straightened up, turning to the butler. “I’ll leave a prescription for him. If you follow my instructions and keep up with his care, he should recover quickly.”

“Thank you, thank you! Dr. Sterling, I can’t possibly express how grateful we are!” The butler’s eyes shone with gratitude.

Anastasia just smiled. “This is my job. I’m glad I could help.”

Lauren’s eyes flickered; Erin had struck a nerve.

Erin continued, “Honestly, Lauren, your method made a lot more sense to me. What if Mr. Calderon was about to wake up anyway, and it just happened after you treated him?”

In other words, maybe he was coming out of his coma because of Lauren’s treatment, and Anastasia just barged in at the last minute—snatching away the credit.

Mr. Evert frowned, considering it. “That’s not entirely impossible.”

His ambiguous response was as good as agreement.

Lauren’s expression darkened immediately. She remembered how the butler had lavished Anastasia with gratitude, not even sparing her a glance. Resentment simmered in her chest.

On the ride home, she suddenly instructed the driver, “Take me to Rosewood Manor.”

If she wanted to deal with Anastasia, she’d have to cut her off at the source.

After all, wasn’t Mr. Harrison Lancaster of Rosewood Manor the most renowned case in all of Fairhaven—the one everyone said was impossible to cure?

What better way to make a name for herself?