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Revenge is My Love Language novel Chapter 592

Summary for Chapter 592: Revenge is My Love Language

Chapter summary: Chapter 592 from the book Revenge is My Love Language by Arlene Zade

Discover the most important events of Chapter 592, a chapter full of surprises in the acclaimed novel Revenge is My Love Language. With the engaging writing of Arlene Zade, this Romance masterpiece continues to thrill and captivate with every page.

It was Mrs. Brennan. The matriarch, usually gentle and kind, had always tolerated Penny’s behavior for Lauren’s sake. But now, her face was a mask of fury.

“Ana is my own granddaughter! This is her home! What right does an outsider, a guest in this house, have to lecture her?!”

Penny’s lip trembled, stunned by the old woman’s wrath and stung by the phrase “an outsider, a guest.” She didn’t see what she’d done wrong. If Lauren was the young lady of the house, then as her aunt, she deserved respect. But she didn’t dare say it out loud.

“That’s enough. Go and make yourself useful,” Murray said, his voice mild but edged with ice. He shot a brief, pointed look at Lauren.

Lauren froze, annoyed at Penny’s recklessness. Didn’t she know when to keep her mouth shut? The Brennans were already cooling toward her; this would only make things worse.

Fearing Penny would do more damage, Lauren shot her a sharp look. “Go and help brew the medicine!”

After Penny scurried away, Lauren turned to Mrs. Brennan. “Grandma, I’m sorry. My aunt is just very blunt, she doesn’t mean any harm…”

“Why are you apologizing to me? You should be apologizing to Ana,” the old woman said, cutting her off. Her gaze, usually so warm and loving when it fell on Lauren, was now deep and appraising.

Lauren’s smile faltered. She turned to Anastasia. “Anastasia, I’m sorry…”

He squeezed her hand. “Let’s go.”

Mrs. Brennan led them to the back garden, with Juliet trailing behind. Along the way, the old woman held Anastasia’s hand tightly, reminiscing about the past. The familiar yet distant scenery filled Anastasia with a bittersweet melancholy.

Suddenly, Harrison’s grip tightened, pulling her from her reverie. “What is it, darling?” she asked.

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