Seeing him, an idea sparked in Anastasia’s mind. She threw her arms around his waist. "Lauren is in the hospital. She told the Brennans I hurt her, and now they're demanding I go and apologize. Will you come with me, Hubby?"
If Lauren had people to back her up, well, so did she. And no one could beat her backup.
Harrison's eyes had turned cold the moment she started explaining. At her request, his voice became a blade of ice. "Of course."
***
**Thirty minutes later. The hospital.**
Lauren was propped up in bed, looking pale and fragile. Her forehead was bandaged, and a shocking road rash covered her palm and forearm, the kind of injury one gets from being violently shoved to the ground.
Winni sat by her bedside, her face a mixture of pity for Lauren and fury toward Anastasia.
"I know she hates Lauren and thinks Lauren stole what was hers, but isn't that her own fault for being so incompetent?" Winni fumed. "She's so useless. Who else could be the heir if not Lauren?"
Nearby, Mr. Brennan stood leaning on his cane, his expression grim. Murray Brennan’s brow was slightly furrowed, his disapproval of Anastasia evident as he looked at Lauren’s state. Benson Brennan, his face a hard mask, leaned against the windowsill, one hand in his pocket, the other toying with a lighter as he stared silently.

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