Chapter summary of Chapter 593 – Revenge is My Love Language by Arlene Zade
In Chapter 593, a key chapter of the acclaimed Romance novel Revenge is My Love Language by Arlene Zade, readers are drawn deeper into a story filled with emotion, conflict, and transformation. This chapter brings crucial developments and plot twists that make it essential reading. Whether you’re new to the book or a loyal fan, this section delivers unforgettable moments that define the essence of Revenge is My Love Language.
“Nothing.” He just didn’t like seeing her sad. Even the slightest frown on her face made his heart ache. He began to play with her fingers, drawing her attention back to him. When he saw the light return to her eyes, he relaxed.
“So where is this tree you planted with your mother?” he asked.
“If I remember correctly, it’s over there. I’ll show you!” Anastasia’s mood lifted, and she eagerly pulled him in the direction she remembered.
“It is over there,” the old lady called out with a smile. “Ana, slow down! The ground is slippery, you’ll fall…”
Her words were barely out of her mouth when Anastasia’s foot slipped on a wet patch of stone, and she lost her balance. Before Mrs. Brennan could even cry out, Harrison, ever vigilant, caught her, pulling her securely against his chest.
The old lady’s heart, which had leaped into her throat, settled back down. Supported by Juliet, she hurried over. “I told you to be careful! Are you hurt? Did you twist your ankle?”
Tucked against Harrison’s chest, Anastasia blushed. “I’m fine, Grandma. I didn’t fall at all.”
Despite her assurances, her grandmother insisted on checking her over from head to toe before she was satisfied. “It rained the last few days,” she chided gently. “The ground is treacherous. Please be more careful.”
Anastasia nodded obediently, only to have her cheek pinched.
“Reckless,” Harrison admonished softly.
She looked up at his stern face and wrapped her arms around him pleadingly. “I only get like this when you’re around to catch me…”
Anastasia’s expression changed instantly. Without a word, she sprinted toward Benson’s room and threw open the door.
Inside, Penny was propping up an unconscious Benson, a bowl of dark liquid in her hand, about to pour it down his throat.
“Stop!” Anastasia commanded, her voice like a crack of thunder.
Penny whipped her head around, her face contorting in panic. In a desperate move, she tried to force Benson’s mouth open and pour the contents of the bowl down his throat.
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