Chapter 81 Hate

Christian glanced at Terence indifferently. His tone was cold.

"Anastasia lost her baby because of Beatrice. Shouldn't she hate Beatrice?"

His words left Terence dumbfounded.

He stood stiffly in disbelief.

"How come..."

He had never heard of it from Beatrice.

Christian looked away and swallowed. His tone was colder.

"As I said before, mind your own business."

He stood up, straightened the buttons of his suit, and added indifferently, "Also, be polite to Anastasia in the future, or I will kick your ass."

His tone was unfriendly. Since Terence was rude to Anastasia in the bar last time, he began to deliberately distance himself from Terence. Terence was in a daze, watching Christian leave.

Christian had never had such a businesslike attitude. Terence felt flustered when he noticed it.

In the evening, the sun was setting.

Eleanor asked Anastasia out for a drink. The bar was noisy.

In a secluded booth, Anastasia felt much better after drinking a few glasses of wine.

She felt as if she had put everything to the back of her mind.

She was wearing a seductive and charming long dress, revealing her smooth shoulders and slender waist. She was so beautiful that people couldn't take their eyes off her.

Eleanor went to dance on the dance floor. Anastasia drank a lot of wine.

She shook the wine in the glass in a daze.

She was deliberately releasing her exhaustion and stress.

Suddenly someone sat down beside her. She turned her head slowly and blinked. Her wet eyes were dazed and clear.

"Mr. Stanford."

Jaxon's face was stern and handsome. No one in the bar looked better than him.

He smiled and looked at Anastasia with interest.

"Call me Jaxon."

"Jaxon," Anastasia blurted out.

She had drunk too much, so she had no sense of judgment.

Jaxon looked at her and raised his eyebrows. He reached out and pulled her up.

"Would you like to dance?"

Before Anastasia could react, she was dragged to the center of the dance floor.

A new piece of music that was suitable for tango began.

Jaxon gently held Anastasia's waist with one hand. With a firm grip, she subconsciously danced to the music.

She wanted to dance happily and forget all the unhappiness.

Jaxon followed her rhythm in surprise.

Anastasia's neck was slender. She was like an elf after drinking too much. Her facial features were delicate, and her movements were soft and graceful. As the tune changed, she turned around at a brisk pace, and the hem of her skirt flew up and down with her steps, as if light shrouded the two of them.

The man was so handsome and tall, and the woman was soft, slender, and delicate. They attracted the attention of many people.

The scene was stunningly beautiful.

The people around stopped and enjoyed their graceful dance.

Anastasia seemed to have returned to carefree herself three years ago.

At that time, she was happy and flamboyant, and she didn't lose anything.

Soon, the music stopped.

Anastasia stopped, feeling drunk. She was dizzy. Her legs were weak, and she fell into Jaxon's arms.

Jaxon caught her, smiled helplessly, and led her to the booth.

In a daze, Anastasia felt tired. Her rosy lips were shiny. She was thirsty.

Jaxon looked at her deeply, stretched out his hand to tuck the hair by her ear gently, and asked softly in her ear, "Anastasia, are you sad?"

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