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Revenge is My Love Language novel Chapter 283

Summary for Chapter 283: Revenge is My Love Language

Chapter Summary: Chapter 283 – Revenge is My Love Language by Arlene Zade

In Chapter 283, a key moment in the Romance novel Revenge is My Love Language, Arlene Zade delivers powerful storytelling, emotional shifts, and critical plot development. This chapter deepens the reader’s connection to the characters and sets the stage for upcoming revelations.

For three whole days, Anastasia didn’t leave her room.

She cried herself hoarse, her eyes so puffy it was painful to look at her. Curled up in his arms, she kept repeating over and over how sorry she was, her voice trembling with regret.

But her tears did nothing to soften the man holding her.

Harrison’s heart seemed carved from stone—cold, unyielding, impossible to sway.

When the master bedroom door finally opened, the staff waiting anxiously outside—especially Fiona and Logan—breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Anastasia finally reappeared, but only because Harrison was carrying her.

Her long hair hid half her small, pale face. Her eyes were swollen and red, her lips pressed tight with stubborn silence. Even nestled in his arms, she kept her head down, quietly sobbing, refusing to look at him or utter a word.

Harrison paid her sulking no mind. He strode confidently toward the dining room, still cradling her against his chest.

He didn’t set her down at the table either, simply kept her in his lap. When Anastasia tried to wriggle free and sit beside him, his arm—unyielding as steel—tightened instantly, locking her in place.

“Don’t move.” He shot her a sidelong glance, his tone cool, a warning clear in his eyes.

The table was set with a lavish spread—all her favorite dishes, clearly prepared under Harrison’s special instructions.

He ladled up a spoonful of warm, nourishing soup and brought it to her lips.

Anastasia’s mouth trembled; she turned her head sharply away.

Harrison’s hand stilled. His voice was calm but commanding: “Open your mouth.”

“I’m not hungry!” Anastasia choked out, her voice cracked and pitiful, eyes growing even redder with the weight of her hurt.

Her words bubbled up in a hiccupping sob, tinged with defiance: “Just let me starve, for all you care. Why bother with me at all—”

“I can’t bear to,” Harrison replied, setting the spoon down. He brushed away the tear at the corner of her eye with his thumb.

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