Revenge is My Love Language novel Chapter 63

Looking for what, exactly?

Anastasia instantly remembered the recording she had fabricated—the one that didn’t even exist.

So, were they searching for her phone, her laptop, or maybe a flash drive?

She tapped her chin, then suddenly broke into a smile.

Originally, she’d planned to find Mary and have her assign someone else to tidy up her room. But now? She had a better idea.

How could she possibly pass up the chance to hand this opportunity to Alice?

At dinner that evening, Anastasia came downstairs. Alice shot her a nervous, sidelong glance, but even after the meal was over, Anastasia made no mention of changing the housekeeper. It was as if she’d forgotten entirely.

Alice, surprised but relieved, quietly exhaled. She even snickered inwardly at Anastasia’s supposed carelessness—how naïve, how completely unguarded.

Anastasia, all the while, caught Alice’s darting gaze out of the corner of her eye. She tugged the corner of her lips into a faint, knowing smirk. If Alice behaved herself, all would be well—but if not? Well, she’d have only herself to blame for stepping right into the trap.

Back upstairs, Anastasia’s phone buzzed with a call from Gabriel.

She frowned, answered, and said curtly, “What is it?”

“What is it? You seriously have the nerve to ask me that? Do you feel no guilt after what you did to Penelope? You’d better get yourself back here—now!”

Gabriel’s voice exploded in her ear.

Only then did Anastasia remember: when she’d left the house, Penelope had been passed out by the pool.

His heart skipped. For a moment, his chest felt warm and prickly, and he was left staring after her in a daze. Suddenly, a shrill, excited whoop blared from his computer speakers.

“Whoa! Was that your new wife? She’s adorable! Harrison, you lucky bastard!”

Harrison snapped out of it, his voice icy: “Shut up.”

“Oh, come on! I’m miserable enough as it is—can’t I at least enjoy a little vicarious happiness?” The other man’s tone was mock-pitiful.

On the screen, a video call was open. The man on the other end was a handsome playboy type—like Harrison, he sat in a wheelchair.

He forced a bitter smile. “You and I aren’t the same. You’ll be walking again soon enough; I’m the one facing amputation. My mom’s dragged in every doctor imaginable, and they all say the same thing—unless some miracle worker turns up, I’m stuck like this for life.”