Summary of Chapter 591 – A turning point in Revenge is My Love Language by Arlene Zade
Chapter 591 immerses the reader in an emotional journey within the world of Revenge is My Love Language, written by Arlene Zade. With the hallmarks of Romance literature, this chapter balances emotion, tension, and revelation. Perfect for readers seeking narrative depth and authentic human connections.
“Benson’s unconscious,” Anastasia explained quickly, then turned to Harrison’s assistant. “Logan, I need you to find some herbs for me right away.” She sent him the list discreetly on her phone.
Logan glanced at the message and nodded. “Right away.”
“Grandfather, since the hospital can’t help, why don’t we take Benson home?” Lauren suddenly suggested. “It will be easier to treat him there.”
Mr. Brennan tore his gaze from Harrison and nodded. “Fine.”
An hour later, an unconscious Benson was settled in his room at the Brennan estate. For the first time since her rebirth, Anastasia stepped through the front door. The first thing she saw was the large family portrait hanging in the living room.
Her mother wasn’t in it. She wasn’t in it. Only Lauren.
Her expression darkened for a moment before a warm hand enclosed hers.
“If you like it, we can have one taken for our home,” Harrison said quietly. “You can hang it wherever you want.”
The shadows in her eyes vanished instantly. *Our home.* The words sent a tremor through her heart.
“Okay,” she whispered.
“Who’s going first?” Mr. Brennan asked, his voice breaking the silence.
Lauren spoke up. “I haven’t found a solution yet. Since Anastasia is so confident, she should go first.”
All eyes turned to Anastasia.
“Me what?” Anastasia’s laugh was sharp. “If I recall correctly, the Brennans adopted Lauren, not her entire extended family. By what right do you live here?”
The nearby servants exchanged subtle, disdainful glances. They had long despised Penny, who, despite being on the payroll, acted more like a mistress of the house than the Brennans themselves, ordering everyone around with an air of entitlement.
Penny clutched her chest, incensed. “I am Lauren’s aunt! Lauren is the young lady of this house! Why can’t I live here?”
“And you,” she shot back, “what gives you the right to talk to me like that? The Brennans don’t even acknowledge you as—”
“Enough!” a furious voice roared.
***

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