“...Go on, then.”
If she refused, wouldn’t it just make her look guilty?
Anastasia felt a flicker of anxiety at the thought.
The Lancaster family’s party was being held in honor of the Lady—Barry’s mother—turning sixty. The Lady, though, was merely Uncle Harrison’s longtime mistress, and for a man of Harrison’s stature, attending this event was already a step down. That he agreed to come at all made it all the more extraordinary.
On the day of the party, Anastasia stepped out of the car and immediately parted ways with Harrison. Barry hurried over, all eager smiles and servile nods, to whisk Harrison away—he clearly had his own business to attend to.
Anastasia had barely set foot inside the grand ballroom when someone popped up beside her.
“Anastasia!”
It was Penelope.
Her eyes flicked over Anastasia’s outfit, and for just a moment, envy flickered in her gaze. In truth, Anastasia wasn’t even dressed up that much tonight; her looks and poise were such that, unless she tried to look outrageous, she’d always end up turning heads.
“Come with me, quick!” Penelope grabbed her by the wrist.
Off guard, Anastasia let herself be dragged all the way out to the back garden.
“What are you doing?” she protested, shaking Penelope off, irritation plain in her voice.
Penelope stared at her, surprised. “This is the Lancaster estate! Don’t you want to find Mr. Lancaster?”
“Why would I want to do that?” Anastasia raised a perfectly arched brow, looking even more surprised than Penelope.
Penelope grew flustered. “Anastasia, back at Rosewood Manor, I know you were worried Mr. Lancaster would be angry, so you didn’t dare leave. But this is different. You don’t need to worry so much now. All you have to do is apologize—make him forgive you, patch things up. Then, tell Mr. Lancaster the truth, that you and he have been together all along. What, do you think Mr. Lancaster would actually steal his own nephew’s fiancée?”
Apologize?
Anastasia’s eyelid twitched. “Apologize for what, exactly?”
Penelope looked at her as if it were obvious. “For marrying into Rosewood Manor, of course! You let him down. Isn’t that worth an apology?”
Anastasia gave a short, cold laugh. “I let him down? I was never even with him. How exactly did I let him down?”
“But—but you two agreed to leave together! You left him waiting for you, then just up and married into Rosewood Manor without a word. Don’t you think you owe him an apology?”
This man had never loved her. From the very start, he’d only come close to her for what she possessed.
How laughable—she’d been fooled for years in her last life, betrayed so completely that it had cost her everything, even her life.
But now, as she raised her eyes again, all that remained was a calm, deep chill.
No matter. If fate had given her a second chance, then neither of these two would get away this time.
“I’ll leave you to it!” Penelope exhaled in relief. She shot Aaron a meaningful look, blushing with delight when he returned it with a soft, ambiguous smile, then hurried off.
Anastasia caught every bit of the exchange, her gaze icy.
So, they’d been sneaking around together all along? And now they didn’t even bother to hide it—did they really think she was blind or a fool?
“Ana.” Aaron drew nearer, launching straight into accusation. “Why haven’t you answered my calls?”
Anastasia curled her lip, feeling a wave of disgust. “I blocked your number. Isn’t that clear enough?”
Aaron looked momentarily stunned, then clearly irritated, though he forced himself to remain calm. “Are you afraid I’ll blame you? Penelope told you, didn’t she? As long as you apologize sincerely, I might just forgive you.”
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