Revenge is My Love Language novel Chapter 543

Seeing her hesitate, Stella slammed her hand on the table. “What, are you scared?”

“Yes, I am,” Anastasia replied flatly.

“Then let’s… wait, what?!” Stella sputtered, taken aback. “Don’t you love my Uncle Harrison? You won’t even drink a few glasses for him? What kind of love is that?”

“If I wreck my stomach, your Uncle Harrison will be upset.” Anastasia refused to take the bait. She settled back with a serene smile, looking so relaxed she might as well have been sipping herbal tea from a thermos.

Stella was fuming. Her plan had failed at the first step. Now what?

“No, you have to drink!” she insisted fiercely.

“Fine,” Anastasia said after a moment’s thought. “But I’m not drinking alone. How about this: for every glass you drink, I’ll drink one.”

Stella hesitated for only a second before gritting her teeth. “Deal. Let’s do it.”

***

*Half an hour later.*

“You don’t even know how Naomi and your Uncle Harrison act around each other? So you have absolutely no useful information for me?” Anastasia asked, propping her chin on her hand. Her face was flushed, her eyes narrowed with dissatisfaction as she looked at her companion.

Across from her, Stella was so drunk her gaze was unfocused. Hearing the question, she slurred defensively, “They’re so much older than me! They never include me in anything. How am I supposed to know how they act?”

Anastasia clicked her tongue. She felt cheated. She’d drunk all that alcohol for nothing. All she had learned was that Naomi and Harrison had known each other since high school, that everyone in their circle knew Naomi was in love with him, and that Naomi had waited for him for years because he’d never wanted to get married.

“What? All ten? Is the client a man or a woman? How could anyone handle that many?”

“Heh, I heard it’s some rich cougar. Probably came looking for some excitement her old man can’t give her at home…”

Logan froze. He glanced at Mr. Lancaster, whose aura had grown impossibly dark, and offered a weak, placating smile. “I’m sure they’re not talking about Mrs. Lancaster. She would never do something like that…”

A security guard hurried over. “Mr. Lancaster, we’ve confirmed it. Mrs. Lancaster and Ms. Stella are in VIP suite 302.”

“Let’s go,” Harrison said, his voice dangerously low. He was already striding forward, the hem of his heavy coat swirling around him like a cape, radiating an aura of pure, murderous intent.

***