Chapter 192 Apology

Chapter 192 Apology

Richard was apologizing to her?

Anastasia's mind went blank for a moment.

He had always been untouchable, the CEO who controlled everything. He'd probably never apologized to anyone in his life.

But now, he was apologizing to her.

The surrounding noise seemed to fade into silence. All Anastasia could hear was his low voice and her own heart pounding like a drum.

His deep eyes no longer held their usual coldness and possessiveness, but something far more complicated.

This discovery unsettled her more than when he'd shut down her shop or used his wealth to crush her.

She opened her mouth, but her throat felt blocked. Not a single complete syllable would come out.

Richard's gaze locked onto her. Seeing her prolonged silence, the faint glimmer that had just sparked in his eyes slowly dimmed again.

Had he really messed everything up beyond repair?

Just then, a gentle voice interrupted.

"Miss Stafford, long time no see."

Bradley approached, his expression refined and courteous, with Renee clinging intimately to his arm.

His gaze moved between Richard and Anastasia, finally settling on Richard's hand at her waist. His eyes turned cold.

Renee noticed too.

She leaned delicately against Bradley, but the look she gave Anastasia was poisoned with jealousy and malice.

Why did that bitch Anastasia always have so many exceptional men around her?

First Caspian, and now even Richard!

Anastasia immediately stepped back, her expression distant and cool. "Long time no see."

Hearing her flat tone, Bradley turned his attention to Richard, a trace of scrutiny flashing behind his glasses.

"Mr. Roosevelt, you rarely attend evening events, do you? Didn't expect to run into you here."

Richard didn't spare Bradley a single second of attention.

He looked down at Anastasia. "I'll take you home first."

His tone wasn't a suggestion—it was a notification.

Anastasia's brow furrowed.

Whatever slight wavering his earlier apology had caused instantly evaporated at this non-negotiable tone.

He was still himself. Nothing had changed at all.

"No need. I still have things to do," she refused coldly.

"Miss Stafford is my friend. No need to trouble yourself, Mr. Roosevelt." Bradley smiled as he spoke, pulling Anastasia slightly toward himself in a protective gesture.

Renee immediately chimed in: "That's right, Anastasia, we haven't seen each other in so long. We haven't even caught up yet—how could you leave already?"

Her tone was affectionate.

Clearly hinting to everyone present that Anastasia belonged on their side.

Richard's expression darkened.

He stared at Bradley's hand on Anastasia's arm, his eyes threatening murder.

"Let go of her."

The tension between them escalated, already drawing the attention of many guests.

"Mr. Roosevelt, what exactly do you mean by this?" Bradley showed no fear. "I'm just talking to my friend—are you going to control that too?"

At that moment, another figure pushed through.

"Anastasia!"

Caspian's face was urgent.

He'd been searching for her through the crowd and hadn't expected to walk into this kind of battleground scene.

He saw Richard, then Bradley, and finally his gaze landed on Anastasia, his expression complicated.

"Why are you with them?" he questioned reflexively.

Anastasia looked at these men before her and felt nothing but absurdity and irritation.

One had used ruthless tactics to corner her, then inexplicably came to apologize.

One harbored ulterior motives, ready to treat her as prey.

One had betrayed her and now wanted to come crawling back—a hypocrite.

She hadn't come here to act out some ridiculous romantic drama with them.

Anastasia couldn't be bothered with any of them anymore and turned to leave.

"Anastasia!" Caspian reached out to grab her.

But Richard moved first, blocking Anastasia's path.

"Get lost."

His words carried absolute oppression.

Caspian's face flushed red.

Taking advantage of their confrontation, Anastasia had already melted into the crowd.

She walked straight toward the banquet hall's terrace.

The breeze on the terrace was cool, dispersing the irritation in her chest.

She pulled out her phone and looked at the photos she'd secretly taken earlier.

Bradley with Renee, deep in conversation with a middle-aged man.

She recognized that man—a well-known investor in the industry, but with a terrible reputation, especially for preying on young, attractive female entertainers.

Was Bradley paving the way for Renee, or pushing her into a pit of fire?

A cold glint flashed in Anastasia's eyes.

She edited the photos and sent them to the fashion blogger she'd contacted earlier.

[Exclusive scoop: Lawson Group heir spotted with new flame, allegedly connecting her with industry heavyweight.]

Done. She put away her phone and turned to leave.

When she looked back, Richard was standing not far behind her.

He made no move to approach, just watched her, his eyes dark and unreadable.

When had he followed her out here?

Anastasia's heart skipped a beat beyond her control.

Feeling uncomfortable under his gaze, Anastasia looked away, her tone stiff. "Mr. Roosevelt, why are you following me?"

"I just came out for some air."

A lame excuse.

Anastasia didn't want to call him out, and didn't want any further entanglement with him.

She stepped forward, trying to walk past him.

"Just now," Richard spoke again as she passed by him, "were you setting up Bradley?"

He'd seen her messaging.

Though he didn't know the content, he could guess it wasn't casual conversation.

Anastasia's steps halted.

"How is that any of your business?" she countered.

"He's not a good person." Richard's brow furrowed deeply. "Stay away from him."

The words struck Anastasia as almost laughable.

She turned around, looking directly into his eyes, a mocking curve on her lips. "Are you concerned about me? Or in your view, only you have the right to drive me to ruin—no one else is allowed?"

Richard's heart felt like it had been stabbed with a needle.

"That's not what I meant." He struggled to explain. "Shutting down your shop was wrong of me."

He wanted to say he'd just been blinded by jealousy.

Seeing her with Caspian, seeing other men show interest in her—he couldn't control the urge to hide her away, to make her belong only to him.

But those words—with his pride—he just couldn't get them out.

In the end, they became only: "It won't happen again."

Anastasia watched his clumsy, awkward manner, and somehow the anger in her heart inexplicably dissipated a little.

She turned her face away, no longer looking at him.

"Whatever."

With that, she stopped lingering and quickly walked back into the banquet hall.

Inside the hall, the earlier commotion had settled.

Bradley and Renee were nowhere to be seen.

Caspian had also disappeared.

Anastasia found a corner.

Before long, she saw that fashion blogger post a suggestive update, with the photos she'd sent as attachments.

Though faces were blurred, anyone with eyes could tell who it was.

Soon, comments and shares began piling up underneath.