Larissa's Game of Thrones (Larissa) novel Chapter 291

Even the unflappable Haskell was taken aback by Larissa’s bluntness. He chuckled and clarified, “When I said I wasn’t ‘managing,’ I didn’t mean I’d already satisfied my needs. I meant that before I met you, I never felt that way about any other woman.”

Larissa eyed him skeptically, though she knew he had no reason to lie. Still, she couldn’t resist teasing him.

“Haskell, you’re not exactly a spring chicken. Most men your age have certain… urges,” she prodded mischievously.

Haskell’s smile was gentle. “Larissa, you know how things are in the Palmer family. With my uncles Tobias and Trevor constantly eyeing the inheritance, I couldn’t afford any distractions. My work kept me so busy that I never had time for such things. Even my engagement to Honora was arranged by my grandfather. It wasn’t until my accident, when I finally had time to slow down, that I met you. You were the one who awakened those feelings in me.”

He paused, then added, “You don’t think I’m too old, do you?”

Larissa laughed. “Not at all. You’re the perfect age, Haskell.”

A thought occurred to her. “Speaking of which, I’ve been curious. Your father, Thatch, is the youngest of his siblings, yet you’re the eldest of your generation.”

“That would be the result of young love,” Haskell said, his tone perfectly serious. “While my aunts and uncles were building their careers, my father was busy with romance. As I mentioned before, my mother fell for him because he was handsome.”

“I see,” Larissa said, nodding. It seemed Haskell had inherited his father’s good looks but not his penchant for early romance. He’d certainly inherited the better traits.

“Alright, I’m heading back. I have a mountain of things to deal with tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

...

Larissa chuckled. Sage was as dramatic as ever. Shadow and Snowy ignored it, slithering toward the open window. Sage quickly followed.

Larissa watched them disappear into the night, a hopeful glint in her eyes.

Finley and Honora hadn't reached their lowest point yet. If she was right, Finley, knowing Honora's face was ruined by the poison, would surely take her to the auction house tomorrow to seek out the poison expert. She wondered what their expressions would be when they saw her there.

…

At the city hospital.

“What do you mean you can’t give me a blood transfusion?” Honora shrieked, unable to accept the doctor’s diagnosis.