Chapter 232

The vinegar bottle slipped from her grasp.

The glass shattered on the pavement, a sharp tang of vinegar filling the air.

“Oh my goodness, are you alright?” Anthea blurted out an apology.

“I’m fine.” The man brushed off his black trench coat nonchalantly.

That voice, it sounded oddly familiar.

Anthea looked up, and it was Alex.

Alex hadn’t expected the person he bumped into to be Anthea, “Ms. Yeager, I’m sorry about your vinegar.”

“It’s okay, it wasn’t your fault. I wasn’t watching where I was going. I’ll just pop back to the store for another bottle,” Anthea said. But instead of heading straight back to the store, she squatted down to pick up the broken pieces, tossing them into a nearby bin to prevent any passersby from getting hurt.

Alex crouched down too, helping Anthea with the cleanup.

Two pairs of elegant hands accidentally reached for the same shard.

Their fingertips grazed each other lightly.

A spark, quick and unexpected, and they both paused.

Anthea didn’t show any awkwardness, simply releasing the shard and grabbing another.

Nor did Alex’s face betray any emotion.

It was as if nothing had happened at all.

Once all the pieces were collected, Anthea headed back to the supermarket for vinegar.

But as she went to pay, Alex beat her to it.

“Mr. Peterson, you really didn’t have to. I could’ve managed.”

Alex just smiled faintly, “It’s only a bottle of vinegar, Ms. Yeager. No need to fuss.”

“Well then, I won’t fuss.” Anthea lifted the vinegar bottle and pointed in a direction, “My place is just over there. Since it’s the holiday, I won’t keep you long.”

“Sounds good,” Alex nodded slightly.

“I should get back, my mom’s waiting for this vinegar for the cooking.”

“Take care, Ms. Yeager.” As she turned to leave, Alex seemed to remember something, pointing at Anthea’s arm, “It looks like you got some vinegar on your sleeve. I have a handkerchief here if you want to roll up your sleeve and wipe it off?

“It’s fine,” Anthea said with little concern, “I’ll just change when I get home. Goodbye, Mr. Peterson.”

“Goodbye.” Alex nodded again.

After Anthea had turned away, a shadow of disappointment briefly crossed his eyes.

༈ ཤྲཱ ད ཛཿཧི ཀཽ ཥ རྗ = ཟྭ · ཇ ༈ ༈ ༤ འ

It disappeared as quickly as it had come.

Just then, a luxury car pulled up to the curb, the door opened, and a driver stepped out, bowing respectfully to Alex, “Boss.”

Alex got into the car, the winter sun casting a cold light across his features, “Let’s go.”

The driver got in as well, and the car sped off, soon arriving at the Peterson Manor.

As the car came to a stop, an assistant came over to open the door.

“Get me everything on Anthea and Rebecca/ and bring it to my study.”

“Right away,” the assistant nodded.

“And photos,” Alex added, “Summer ones, preferably full–length.”

The assistant nodded again.

After Anthea got home, she couldn’t wait to take a shower.

The vinegar had left her arm feeling sticky and smelling sour.

Stepping out of the shower, she went to dry her hair, rolling up her sleeves to her elbows.

Her skin was fair, her wrists delicate, easily encircled by one hand. Near her elbow, there was a faint but noticeable bite mark.

1/2

10:06

Though light in color, it stood out starkly against her pale skin.

“Annie, what happened here?” Nanson, ever observant, noticed the mark on Anthea’s arm right away.

“I’ve had it since I was little. I think a kid bit me when I was little.”

Anthea found the bite mark curious.

In her previous life, she had an identical mark on her arm.

And now, the original owner of this body had it too.

Could it be a coincidence?

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