Summary of Chapter 121 from Revenge is My Love Language
Chapter 121 marks a crucial moment in Arlene Zade’s Romance novel, Revenge is My Love Language. This chapter blends tension, emotion, and plot progression to deliver a memorable reading experience — one that keeps readers eagerly turning the page.
When Harrison emerged carrying Anastasia in his arms, everyone was stunned.
If they remembered correctly, hadn’t Mr. Harrison Lancaster marched in just moments ago with a murderous look, as if he were ready to paint the walls red?
Yet here he was, not five minutes later, looking as if spring itself had arrived. What on earth had happened in there? How did Mr. Harrison Lancaster transform so completely?
Well, perhaps his expression wasn’t *that* obvious, but those who’d worked at his side for years could see it clearly enough—the boss was in a damn good mood.
He cradled the girl as if she were a priceless treasure.
Anastasia nestled against his chest, her small hand clutching the front of his shirt, trusting and completely at ease. There was not a trace of fear or resistance in her.
Logan stole a glance upward, an odd sense of awe rising in his chest.
No wonder Mr. Harrison Lancaster reacted this way. No wonder, out of all the women who had passed through his life, he only ever cared for Ms. Anastasia Sterling.
After all, who else could face Mr. Harrison Lancaster without flinching? Who else, when confronted with such a scene, would still trust him so completely? Only Ms. Anastasia Sterling, of course.
Amongst the crowd, only Thomas looked less than pleased.
Harrison, holding Anastasia close, strode toward the elevator. Just as he reached it, Anastasia seemed to remember something.
“Wait—hold on!”
She clung tighter to his shirt, her pale face tilting up in concern.
Harrison halted instantly, glancing down at her. “What’s wrong?”
“The flower…” She rested her chin on his shoulder, peering behind him and mumbling softly. “The flower I gave you—it fell!”
“The flower you gave me…?” Harrison’s voice caught a little.
Anastasia, a little embarrassed, shot him a shy glance and whispered, “I went to the florist just to buy it for you…”
“Pick up the flower Mrs. Lancaster gave me—now.” Harrison’s tone was absolute, more commanding than he ever was in any multimillion-dollar business deal.
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Revenge is My Love Language