Revenge is My Love Language novel Chapter 90

Although her family ran a business, it was hardly a major enterprise—a million dollars was still a staggering sum for them.

“How could you spend that much? Do you even have that kind of money?!”

Delia replied indignantly, “It was all Anastasia’s fault! She tricked me into buying things, then bailed on paying!”

“Anastasia?” Donna’s face darkened. “Has she lost her mind? Where does she get the nerve? I’m calling your aunt right now!”

“Mom, just wire me the money first. I need it urgently—now!”

Noticing the store clerk glancing her way, as if worried she couldn’t afford the bill, Delia felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment.

Muttering curses about Anastasia under her breath and fighting back the pain of parting with so much cash, Donna transferred the money to her daughter.

After paying, Delia stormed over to confront Anastasia, ready to unleash her fury—only to be cut off.

“So, when are you planning to pay me back?”

“…What?!”

“You heard me.” Anastasia rose from her seat, folding her arms and narrowing her eyes. “I hope you haven’t forgotten what I said just now?”

She stood at five-foot-six, taller than Delia by a few inches, but the difference felt like a wall pressing down on her. Delia couldn’t quite meet her gaze.

“…I don’t have any money on me right now!”

For a moment, Delia was so cowed she swallowed her accusations. She had never planned to pay that money back anyway, but with so many people watching, she kept her true thoughts to herself.

Just stall for now. As for actually paying? Ha! Anastasia could keep dreaming. Once she got home, she’d complain to her aunt and let Anastasia suffer the consequences.

Anastasia saw right through her and smirked, but didn’t call her out. “Fine. I’ll give you a little time. But I expect that million in my account by tomorrow.”

“Fiona, let’s go!”

She hadn’t even bought anything yet, but now that her friends had finished shopping here, she was too annoyed to stay. Time to find another store.

“Ma’am, what if she doesn’t pay you back?” Fiona asked, anxiety written all over her face.

A million dollars was no small matter! And Delia didn’t look like someone who’d pay up. Her lady was just too kind!

“If she doesn’t pay, I’ll just drop by and ask for it myself,” Anastasia replied airily. “In fact, I have to go there tomorrow anyway.”

“What? You’re going to the Lockwoods’ place? Why?”

Anastasia’s lips curled into a cold, determined smile, her presence both commanding and icy. “To reclaim what belongs to my family.”

Seeing Delia had reminded her—she’d almost forgotten about the house Delia’s family lived in. That mansion, nestled in the city’s most prestigious neighborhood, had been bought by Anastasia’s mother. Out of pity, her mother had let Delia’s family stay there temporarily.

But “temporary” had somehow stretched into over a decade. After her mother passed away, the Lockwoods had shown no intention of moving out, as if they’d forgotten whose name was really on the deed.

“Anastasia—!”

Just as she was about to leave the mall, a shrill, unwelcome voice rang out behind her.

Anastasia instinctively pressed her lips into a thin line, her eyes flashing with ice and disgust.

She pretended not to hear and kept walking.

Anastasia looked at him for a long moment. “All right.”

Clearly, he was hiding something. She was curious to see just what he was up to.

They headed to the nearest restaurant and requested a private booth.

Neither noticed the two men watching them from across the lobby.

As Anastasia and Aaron disappeared behind the closed door, Logan felt sweat bead on his brow. He didn’t dare guess what the man in the wheelchair beside him was thinking.

A suffocating silence hung between them until Logan finally couldn’t stand it. “Mr. Lancaster…should we head back?”

Harrison had come to this restaurant for a meeting, and was about to leave—until he saw Anastasia. Seeing her alone was bad enough, but with Aaron?

The temperature in the room had seemed to plummet. Logan was sure it wasn’t his imagination.

Harrison’s razor-sharp profile was cold and severe, his eyes dark as a winter lake, lips pressed into a thin, displeased line. The chill he radiated was almost tangible.

Finally, Harrison spoke, his tone low and icy.

“Book a booth next to theirs.”

Slow, deliberate, yet enough to send chills down Logan’s spine.

Logan’s heart skipped a beat. Silently, he lit a candle in his mind for Anastasia.

He could only hope the new Mrs. Lancaster didn’t say or do anything she’d regret.