Chapter 409
Anastasia didn’t bother taking Mr. Steven to the warehouse where death was still smelling around. Even after cleaning up the warehouse and carefully disposing of Mr. Russell’s body, the place still grossed her out.
Also, she couldn’t have only one place where she would be taking care of her business so she had Xavier drive them back to her house back in Fameville.
They couldn’t wait to go back the next day because Mr. Steven’s disappearance would start circulating everywhere sooner rather than later.
It was stressful at first, but they arrived at Anastasia’s home safe and sound.
Mr. Steven woke up along the way but each time he did, they would knock him out unconscious once again.
As soon as it was noon, the doctor had already started circulating the internet. Tracie and Anastasia didn’t worry about being seen on the CCTV, besides, their faces were all covered with masks.
Xavier didn’t feel too comfortable being in her home, he felt he was intruding and thought it was time to leave with the idea to contact Jennifer later to ask if the doctor had revealed anything.
However, Tracie immediately stopped him, suggesting they spend a little more time. Since they were tired, they needed to shower and rest. Now, Xavier couldn’t help but wonder why Tracie was always acting attached to this Jennifer of a woman.
They were closer than they were supposed to be as if they’d known each other before, and that got Xavier raising eyebrows at their interaction.
“You can stay here for the night. I have two extra rooms so you and Tracie can both sleep in there. The bathroom is already stocked with everything you need,” said Anastasia.
Xavier was about to appreciate her gesture but Tracie suddenly came to the living room from the kitchen with a glass filled with orange juice. And just instantly, Anastasia started sneezing.
Her face turned bright red as she instinctively took a few steps back, trying to escape the overpowering aroma of the orange juice. Her skin had already begun to flush, the reaction spreading rapidly, making her resemble a ripe tomato.
“I’m sorry, are you allergic to oranges?” Tracie asked, concern etched on her face. Deep down, guilt gnawed at her as she silently apologized to Anastasia for triggering her allergies by bringing the glass of orange juice into the room.
Tracie couldn’t hold it in anymore. As much as she respected Anastasia’s decision, watching the two of them dance around each other without truly being together was unbearable. It was torture. If she couldn’t tell Xavier the truth outright, then she would at least leave him breadcrumbs—small hints that might lead him to finally figure it out on his own.
Anastasia didn’t wait to respond. She immediately rushed to her room to take her anti-allergy medicine.
Xavier stared at her as she rushed into her room, his eyes narrowing.
’Anastasia is allergic to oranges,’ he thought to himself.
Then he decided to wave the thoughts away. Anybody could be allergic to oranges. Jennifer is allergic to oranges but that didn’t mean she was Anastasia. She didn’t even look like Anastasia.
As Xavier tried to not be paranoid about what had just happened, he could feel something kicking inside him and it left him feeling unsettled.
Then he glanced at Tracie who was already looking at him.
“I didn’t know she was allergic to oranges,” she responded.
Samantha was at her apartment in Xattlewood. She rarely came here—her work consumed every part of her life, leaving little room for personal space. Most of her days were spent overseeing the girls and managing the factory, ensuring everything ran smoothly. But ever since her argument with Xander, she hadn’t returned to his place. Instead, she’d chosen solitude, retreating to her apartment and handling business from afar. It was easier this way—less painful.
Thinking about their argument caused her blood to boil and she didn’t think she was going to forgive him anytime soon.
Samantha stepped out of her home, dressed in one of her finest gowns that can force people to kneel and worship her, her green eyes instantly landed on someone familiar—the same person she’d been cursing in her mind the entire time. Her mood dropped dramatically, leaving her with no excitement.
Xander was leaning against his car, his gaze on Samantha. It was obvious from the outfit, that she wasn’t going to the house or the factory. She was going to meet a special someone. A special someone he’d already deemed unworthy.
She didn’t even bother to make eye contact with him as she ignored his presence as if he never existed and went to her car.
“Samantha,” he called again, his voice laced with something she couldn’t quite decipher—desperation, anger, or something in between. She didn’t wait to find out. Instead, she yanked the car door open, determined to leave, but before she could slip inside, a strong hand grabbed her wrist.
Before she could react, she was yanked backward, and the car door slammed shut with a force that sent a sharp jolt through her. Her back hit the cold metal, and she barely had a moment to regain her balance before she found herself trapped between him and the car.
“What is wrong with you?” She questioned, her gaze subtly landed on her arm he was holding. “Let me go!” She yanked it right off his grip.
“I don’t want you to go to meet with Benjamin,” he said.
“In case you’ve forgotten, I’m not your property that you can command to do whatever you like,” she snapped. “I can see that you still haven’t gotten that through your thick skull p>
“I’m not saying you’re my property, but Benjamin is not the right guy for you,” he explained, but all he got from Samantha was a raised eyebrow as she glared at him.
After the past few days of not seeing Samantha, he’d come to realize that he’d become attached to her for a very long time. As for love, he wasn’t sure if that was what he felt for her in his heart.
“What are you even doing here?” Samantha asked.
“I came to take you out on a date of course,” he replied.
Samantha was completely caught off guard as she looked at him but she couldn’t bring herself to reply.
Unbeknownst to them, someone was watching them from a car parked right opposite the house.