Rosewood Manor.
The moment Anastasia stepped through the door, she sensed that something was off.
She happened to spot Marcus coming from the other end of the hallway, leaning on his cane. “Did something happen while I was out?” she asked, her brows knitting with concern.
Marcus had just returned from exercising in the garden. He’d been especially diligent lately, and walking was no longer such a struggle for him.
He shot her a look filled with pity. “You’ll see for yourself,” he said, his tone carrying a hint of warning.
Anastasia narrowed her eyes, unsettled by Marcus’s reaction. A vague sense of dread curled in her chest, but she pressed on and headed inside.
There, she found Harrison seated alone in an armchair, his expression cold and unreadable. It was as if he’d been waiting for her. The moment she walked in, he lifted his gaze, pinning her with those sharp, icy eyes.
“You’re home,” he said. His voice was calm, almost too calm—no sign of warmth on his striking face. Instinctively, Anastasia froze mid-step, a prickle of anxiety running up her spine.
“I’m home…” she echoed, her pretty eyes flickering with a trace of wariness. “Darling, did someone upset you?”
She couldn’t shake the feeling that Harrison’s anger had something to do with her. But that made no sense—she’d been on her best behavior these past few days. She hadn’t done a single thing to make him angry!
Still puzzling over it, she made her way toward Harrison. As she drew closer, she glanced around and noticed a pile of lavishly wrapped gift boxes stacked in the living room. Sitting down at his side, she asked offhandedly, “Who sent all these? Why haven’t they been put away?”
The question no sooner left her lips than Marcus and Logan, who had followed her in, both shot her looks of pure sympathy.
An uneasy feeling tightened her stomach. Before she could process it, Harrison’s voice came from beside her—


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