Revenge is My Love Language novel Chapter 104

Anastasia didn’t say it outright, but she knew Gabriel understood perfectly. All that talk about raising chickens and living off the land, about family loyalty—it was nothing but a pack of lies. The Sinclairs were just using those stories as a cover to squeeze money out of her!

In her past life, she’d realized as much. But for the sake of her relationship with Nora, she kept quiet and swallowed her anger.

But now? That so-called bond with Nora? What a joke. She couldn’t care less if it vanished overnight.

Nora didn’t dare say another word.

“Paying back what you owe is only fair,” Anastasia said coolly. “Now, I want the Sinclairs to return my money. Is that really too much to ask?”

Gabriel snorted. “You said it yourself—debts should be paid. What’s so unreasonable about that?” He tossed the invoice onto the coffee table in front of the Sinclairs. “However you borrowed it, that’s how you’re returning it. Every cent.”

The Sinclairs had already started to panic when they heard the sum—eight million dollars. Now, with Gabriel’s sharp tone, their faces drained of color. They looked stunned, desperate.

“Do you really… really expect us to pay it all back?” one of them stammered.

Eight million! It was an astronomical sum.

Anastasia’s expression was icy. “What, you thought you wouldn’t have to pay it back? That’s not what you said when you took the money. Or was it your plan all along to borrow and never return it?”

The Sinclairs fell silent, unable to offer a single excuse.

Gabriel let out another cold laugh. “You have three days. Pay back every dollar, or be ready to face the consequences.”

Anastasia’s lips curled into a faint smirk as she settled back into her seat, completely at ease. She’d known it—just wave the invoice, and she wouldn’t have to worry about collecting the debt herself. Gabriel would make sure every penny made its way back to her.

Of course, her father wasn’t doing this out of any paternal affection. He simply couldn’t stand to see that much money slip through his fingers.

Anastasia would bet her last stick of beef jerky—Gabriel definitely had his eye on that eight million, too.

Whatever. She plucked a grape from the fruit bowl, her slender, pale fingers striking against the deep purple skin. She looked calm and casual, but her gaze was sharp and cold.

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