From Sneers to Cheers: Anthea’s Ascent (Anthea ) novel Chapter 519

If this ever got out, it wouldn’t just ruin her parents’ reputation—it would destroy any chance she had of marrying Mr. Christensen.

No. Absolutely not.

Right now, she had no choice but to swallow her pain and pretend nothing had happened.

“Well, since Ms. Morris isn’t calling the police, we’ll be on our way,” one of the men said, as they and their friends began pulling on their clothes.

Rebecca sat on the edge of the bed, silent and numb.

An hour later.

Rebecca finally emerged from the motel, her body aching, a constant reminder of what she had endured the night before.

Among those five men, the oldest had to be in his fifties—maybe even sixties.

Not even in her previous life had Rebecca ever suffered such humiliation.

It was the middle of August, hot and stifling outside, but Rebecca felt frozen to the bone.

Anthea.

It had to be that vile woman, Anthea, who’d set this up.

That wretched woman!

Rebecca’s whole body trembled.

She would get revenge. She would pay Anthea back a thousand times over for what she had suffered tonight.

Disoriented and shattered, Rebecca made her way home to the Morris family estate.

As soon as she stepped inside, Daly rushed toward her. “Rebecca, you’re back! Did Mr. Robinson agree to help us?”

He was in such a panic he didn’t even notice the swelling on her face.

Rebecca looked up at her father. “Dad, I need to go upstairs and rest for a bit. We’ll talk about everything later.”

Daly opened his mouth to protest, but Rebecca was already heading up the stairs.

He let out a heavy sigh.

Since yesterday, after all the major investors had pulled out, Morris Group stock had dropped ten percent—nothing but red all day.

Now the shareholders were already talking about selling the company.

Things were so dire, there was no time left to waste.

Just then, Sandra swept past Daly in a burst of perfume and bright colors. She was all smiles. “Daly, what do you think of this dress? Isn’t it just fabulous?”

Daly turned and glared at her. “Where are you off to, dressed like that?”

Sandra beamed. “I’ve got plans—cards with Mrs. Sullivan and Mrs. Wallace this afternoon.”

Daly’s temper, already frayed, snapped completely. He slapped Sandra hard across the face. “Cards! That’s all you ever do! Do you know anything besides playing cards?”

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