Revenge is My Love Language novel Chapter 72

Harrison didn’t say a word. He stared at his phone for a moment, then set it down on the side table with a dull thud—neither gentle nor harsh, but the sound landed like a hammer in the silence.

The noise struck Anastasia’s heart, making it clench painfully in her chest.

The room was dead quiet.

Everyone braced themselves. Knowing Mr. Lancaster’s temperament, they were certain his anger was about to erupt—and when it did, few people could withstand it.

Anastasia’s nerves were on edge. She imagined just how furious he must be. She parted her lips to explain, but before she could speak, he did.

“If you don’t want to be here, there’s no need to force yourself. Go pack your things—I’ll have someone take you home.”

There was no anger in his voice, only exhaustion and disappointment.

Anastasia froze, stunned.

Alice, on the other hand, let out a triumphant laugh, her eyes glinting with glee as she looked at Anastasia, barely able to hide her delight.

“Mr. Lancaster…!” Anastasia reached for his arm in a panic. She knew him too well: this cold, detached response only surfaced when he was deeply disappointed. If he was just angry, he would have shown it—his domineering nature didn’t allow for indifference.

She would have preferred his rage over this kind of “forgiveness.” His indifference meant he no longer cared.

But Harrison wasn’t interested in anything she had to say. He pulled his arm free from her grasp and gave a terse order. “Logan, take me upstairs.”

He didn’t look back as he disappeared into the elevator, leaving Anastasia’s heart aching in his wake.

Alice couldn’t resist twisting the knife. “Didn’t you hear Mr. Lancaster? Go on, pack your bags! What, planning to cling on and not leave? You should look in the mirror—someone like you, how could you possibly deserve—ah!”

Before she could finish, a sharp slap echoed through the room.

“Anastasia, how dare you hit me?!”

Ever since his illness, Harrison preferred the room dim.

In the faint light, Anastasia caught sight of his figure. She walked over, stopping just behind him, her voice careful and soft. “Mr. Lancaster…”

At the sound of her familiar address, Harrison’s eyes darkened further. “Why did you come up here?”

Anastasia’s lips trembled with hurt. “Do you really want me to leave?”

“I don’t believe in forcing people,” he said coldly. “If your heart’s with someone else, then go.”

“One look at a few text messages and you believe that?” She hurried to him, gripping the side of his chair, kneeling on one knee so she could look up at him, her face full of wounded innocence. “You’d rather trust someone else’s side of the story than hear my explanation?”

Harrison looked down, his deep gaze landing on her delicate upturned face.

He’d always been decisive, never one to waste time on pointless talk. But when he saw the hurt in her eyes, he finally closed his own, letting out a weary breath. “All right. What do you have to say for yourself?”