Chapter 279 – Highlight Chapter from Revenge is My Love Language
Chapter 279 is a standout chapter in Revenge is My Love Language by Arlene Zade, where the pace intensifies and character dynamics evolve. Rich in drama and tension, this part of the story grips readers and pushes the Romance narrative into new territory.
With calm, unhurried steps, the figure appeared before him—it was unmistakably Anastasia.
“You… what are you doing here?” Thomas stammered, shock etched across his battered face.
Anastasia didn’t bother to answer. She strode right up to him and looked down, surveying the sorry, half-conscious man sprawled at her feet.
“Tsk, tsk. You look awful,” she remarked, her tone more amused than sympathetic.
Thomas, furious, nearly choked on his own anger.
He glared at her, a sudden suspicion flashing through his mind. “You betrayed Mr. Harrison Lancaster, didn’t you?!”
Anastasia’s face went cold. Without warning, she lifted her foot and delivered a swift kick to his shoulder. Thomas, who’d just managed to prop himself up, was knocked flat onto the ground again.
“How dare you—” he sputtered, rage twisting his features.
“Shut up!” Anastasia’s voice was icy. She stared him down. “You’re accusing me of betraying Mr. Harrison Lancaster? Do you even hear yourself?”
She took a step closer, her eyes narrowing. “You’re the only one who had access to Mr. Lancaster’s medical records. If you think I leaked them, then tell me—when did I ever get close enough to you to steal them? When did I ever have the chance?”
The realization hit Thomas hard, draining the color from his face. He’d been so stunned to see Anastasia here that he’d lashed out without thinking. But she was right—she’d never had the opportunity to get her hands on those files.
Anastasia let out a cold, mirthless laugh. The thought gnawed at her: if she hadn’t intervened today, Harrison would have had to come himself, risking who knows what. She remembered the last time, how horribly he’d been hurt—all because Thomas had blindly trusted Alice. The memory made her want to kick Thomas again out of sheer frustration.
“And you have the nerve to question me?” she sneered. “You’re suspicious of me, but you’re not asking yourself how those files—files only you ever touched—ended up in someone else’s hands?”
“Why don’t you wonder, if someone wanted to threaten Mr. Harrison Lancaster, why didn’t they take me hostage? Why go after Alice, who barely matters?”
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