The Best Revenge It Wasn't Even Your Child novel Chapter 349

"Harrell, you really shouldn't say things like that," Catherine said, her voice firm.

Harrell went quiet.

"I'm going to check on Lance."

As soon as the light turned green, Catherine pressed the gas and made a quick U-turn, heading straight for Summit Vista.

Half an hour later, she was stepping out of her car, still on the phone with Lorinda.

"I'm just checking in on him as a colleague, nothing more. If something happens to him, it's not good for me either. Yeah, you're right, he really is just a headache..."

Lorinda had found out that Lance was there. She was full of complaints, as if convinced Catherine was up to something behind her back.

Catherine could only sigh and agree with everything Lorinda said, hoping to calm her down.

"Come home as soon as you can. And don't even think about staying there overnight," Lorinda snapped before hanging up.

The faint light from the phone screen lit up Catherine's small face. Her brows were furrowed as she typed a quick message back.

[I’ll come home for sure, but it’ll be late. You and Jasper go to bed—don’t wait for me.]

Lorinda replied right away. [Yeah, I’m not waiting up. But if you don’t come home, trust me, you’ll regret it!]

Catherine replied with a simple "Okay," tucked her phone away, and started walking up to the villa.

She looked up and froze. Someone was watching her.

Lance was at the front door, leaning against the wall. He was tall, his body relaxed, a cigarette burning slowly between his fingers.

She had no idea how long he’d been standing there. It had to be before she got out of the car, otherwise she would have noticed him coming out.

Which meant he’d probably heard her entire phone call.

"Lance, since you’re alright, I’ll get going," Catherine said.

She stood there for a second, then quickly turned to leave, practically speed-walking like something was chasing her. She half-expected Lance to call out and stop her.

But he said nothing, even as she opened her car door.

She couldn’t help but sneak a glance back.

The porch light cast a soft orange glow over his white shirt, highlighting the sharp lines of his face. His eyes were deep, dark, impossible to read. There was a flush to his cheeks that wasn’t usually there.

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