Whispers Of Betrayal (Anastasia and Alastor)

Chapter 85

Alastor seemed to be hitting the bottle hard.

Lately, he had been drinking a lot.

Alcohol seemed to be the only way he would spill the thoughts he usually kept bottled up.

“Anastasia, you really know how to stir the pot.” Alastor’s voice oozed with sarcasm.

“It’s Christmas, so why don’t you just hang up if you’ve got nothing new to say? Happy Christmas.” Anastasia’s voice came out raspy

“Anastasia! Do you think I’m having a blast here? Since you came into my life, do you think I’ve had even a single day of happiness? Alastor’s frustration seeped through the words.

Anastasia stayed silent, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

There hadn’t been a single day of joy.

It was because she wasn’t the one in his heart.

“Then why the hell didn’t you get a divorce earlier?” Anastasia fired back.

“Divorce? Ha.” Alastor’s tone dripped with mockery. “Anastasia, I want you back here tomorrow. Did you get that? I want you to move back here!”

Sounds of things breaking echoed were made by Alastor in the background.

“No… Scratch that, I want you back right now Alastor sounded like he was letting loose under the influence.

Anastasia was starting to feel distanced from Alastor, emotionally and mentally.

But one thing was clear to Anastasia: Alastor was home.

He hadn’t left.

Or maybe he came back after a round of drinks?

“Sleep it off if you’re acting crazy. Goodbye.” Anastasia didn’t want to engage Alastor.

“Anastasia, you get your ass back here right now If I don’t see you and Snowball within the next 30 minutes, there’ll be hell to pay! Alastor’s rage was palpable. He was demanding Anastasia return, and he even wanted Snowball to go back with her.

It was probably Anastasia who took Snowball away that really set Alastor off.

Anastasia held Snowball dear. She wouldn’t have taken Snowball unless she was ready to leave everything behind.

But she did take Snowball with her.

Alastor was being driven insane by Anastasia, it seemed.

“Alastor, what the hell are you trying to pull?” Anastasia’s voice quivered as she asked.

Couldn’t they part ways without all this mess?

“Get back here! Until we’re officially divorced on paper, you’re still my wife. Got it? Don’t push me to ruin Jason’s reputation.” Alastor used Jason as leverage to threaten Anastasia once again.

Each time he pulled this card, it worked like a charm.

Anastasia would compromise for Jason.

So each time Anastasia caved, Alastor got angrier.

“Alastor, you’re repulsive.” Anastasia’s voice shook, and she hung up the call.

She knew Alastor was capable of anything.

Today, the news that exposed his affair with Felicia online had clearly set Alastor off. Text © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

But Anastasia was puzzled. Why didn’t Alastor immediately have his Public Relations Department squash the rumors? Instead, he allowed the gossip to spread like wildfire.

Ironically, the scandal of Alastor who cheated someone had temporarily overshadowed her negative news.

She actually owed him a thank you.

“Dig in on the ravioli.” Jason set down the piping hot ravioli, slightly burning his hand. He gave his ear a tug to cool it. Anastasia’s vision was beginning to blur. She watched Jason buzzing around the kitchen and felt an indescribable ache in her chest

The supposed home and the supposed festivity were all happening before her.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t worthy of it.

“Jason… I need to take Snowball back for a bit…” Anastasia spoke softly.

Jason hesitated for a moment, looking somewhat downcast. “Is something wrong?”

“All my paintings are there. I don’t feel good about that… The rain’s stopped, I’ve called a car, and the driver is on his way. Snowball and I are heading back for now. I’ll contribute to the rent here. After I’ve squared things with Alastor, I’ll move in here,” Anastasia said quietly.

“Is Alastor causing a ruckus again?” Jason reached out and held Anastasia’s hand, appearing concerned.

“Not really…” Anastasia shook her head. “I’m not completely divorced from Alastor yet.”

“Do you still plan on forgiving him?” Jason’s concern was evident.

He also felt insecure.

After all, he was scared Anastasia might backtrack.

Anastasia shook her head. “Jason, you need to understand something. Even if I completely sever ties with Alastor, I won’t be with you. I agreed to stay here because it’s peaceful, not because I want to build some sort of relationship with you.”

With Snowball in her arms. Anastasia glanced at her phone and headed to the door.

Jason stood there dejected, his voice husky. “I get it…”

He didn’t want to push her. “At least… Have some ravioli. I put a lot of effort into making the filling.”

He simply wanted to make ravioli for Anastasia.

His grandmother said having ravioli on Christmas Eve would bring good luck for the whole year.

Anastasia’s steps faltered, and she turned back to the dining table, settling down to eat some ravioli.

On her first bite. Anastasia found the chestnut in the ravioli.

As she stared at the chestnut nestled in the ravioli, Anastasia’s vision blurred from tears.

If four years ago, she had encountered Jason during that blind date, how wonderful that could’ve been.

Unfortunately, there were no ‘ifs.”

Fate led her to Alastor, which was a mistake in itself.

“Jason, have you been in any relationships these past years?” Anastasia asked softly.

“I’ve got a criminal record. Nobody wants me.” Jason looked away.

Anastasia’s heart ached. Felicia had pursued Jason for so long, but she abandoned the idea after digging into his past.

Others likely did the same.

“Jason, what can I do for you?” Anastasia wasn’t sure what she could offer Jason, apart from money.

But before she left this world, she wanted to make up to Jason.

“Due to that incident, my chances of finding a wife are slim. Grandma’s last wish was to see me married. Once you’ve sorted things out with Alastor, let’s get a marriage certificate. I know you don’t feel anything for me, so let’s turn it into a marriage agreement. It can be like a kind of compensation from you to me.” Jason looked at Anastasia and spoke again.