I Became the Billionaire's Fake Lover to Get My Revenge
Chapter 56: A Woman from the Past

Chapter 56: A Woman from the Past

She jerked her chin toward the mask still clutched in Robert’s hand, and at last, he relented, releasing her wrist.

"Oh... right," he murmured, his voice oddly quiet as he handed it back to her. "I saw you drop it on your way here, so I followed you to return it."

Anna took the mask from him with a polite nod. "Well, thank you for that."

Robert said nothing, but his dark eyes remained locked onto her, scanning her features as if searching for something—something familiar.

The weight of his scrutiny made her skin prickle with unease. Without another word, she swiftly lifted the mask to her face, shielding herself from his piercing gaze before turning away, eager to put distance between them.

But Robert wasn’t finished.

"Excuse me," he called out, catching her wrist once more. His grip was firm, yet there was no aggression this time—only insistence. "Would you care for a dance?"

Anna’s eyebrows shot up, barely concealing her disbelief. "Why would I dance with such a rude man?" she scoffed. "With the way you keep grabbing me, you don’t seem like a particularly desirable dance partner."

Robert exhaled sharply, then softened his tone, the hint of a plea threading through his words. "I apologize. I was out of line. But it would be an honor to dance with you. This is a ballroom dance event, after all. We’re here to dance... aren’t we?"

Anna hesitated, her eyes subtly scanning the room, searching for any sign of William.

Rejecting Robert would seem odd—after all, it was just a dance. Yet, an uneasy feeling settled in her chest as she wondered whether William would be upset, knowing she had done something they hadn’t discussed beforehand.

But maybe this is a good idea after all... Getting close to Robert now could finally put an end to these lingering feelings. I can prove—to myself and everyone else—that I feel nothing for him anymore.

"Very well," she said at last, slipping her hand into his. "Let’s dance."

The quartet’s music swirled through the grand hall, filling the air with a slow yet elegant melody. As they stepped onto the dance floor, Anna placed one hand lightly on Robert’s shoulder while allowing him to take the other.

The moment their bodies moved in sync with the rhythm, a sharp pang stirred in her chest—a fleeting, unwanted echo of the past. As children, Robert had been her dance partner during lessons. He had struggled at first, taking his time to master the art of leading, but Anna hadn’t minded. Every extra practice session meant more time spent dancing with him.

Now, she couldn’t wait for this dance to be over.

"You keep staring at me," she finally noted, growing weary of his silent scrutiny. "Is there something on my face?"

Robert’s lips curled into a small, unreadable smile. "You just... remind me of someone I used to know."

Anna arched a brow, a smirk playing at her lips. "A lover, perhaps? An old flame?"

"Well, you could say that... Just a woman from the past."

Really? Anna’s brow furrowed in slight annoyance. Is that what your dead wife is to you? Just a woman from the past?

"If I remind you of her," she forced another smile onto her lips, "then she must have been quite beautiful. How come she’s left behind in the past?"

Robert chuckled, but Anna detected an uncomfortable edge to his laughter. "No, she wasn’t. She wasn’t anything like you, honestly. I’m not even sure why I thought of her when I looked at you. If you met her, you’d probably demand an apology."

Now, Anna’s brows knitted into a deep frown. Scumbag. Inconsiderate, heartless scumbag.

She swallowed her anger, forcing a small, tight smile and choosing not to respond to that comment.

An awkward silence stretched between them, and Robert began to sense the growing tension in the air.

"Your accent," he ventured carefully, "are you from France?"

"Yes," Anna replied, her voice flat, her gaze drifting past him, focusing on anything but his face.

Robert’s jaw clenched, trying to steer the conversation into safer territory. "My fiancée loves Paris. She wants us to have our wedding there."

"Really?" Anna raised an eyebrow, her voice laced with sarcasm as she muttered, "Is that some kind of trend? For mistresses to want to go to France for their wedding?" She twisted her lips into a mocking smirk, the words slipping from her mouth in French.

"Pardon?" Robert asked, his voice tinged with confusion. Anna silently thanked herself for speaking in a language he didn’t understand.

"You have a fiancée," she said, forcing another polite smile, "how lovely."

"Yes," Robert nodded, his cheeks flushing slightly. "She’s a wonderful woman."

"Really?" Anna raised an eyebrow. "How does she feel about you dancing with another woman?"

"She’s not here," he hurried to explain, his grip on her hand tightening with a trace of frustration. "She’s handling... family matters."

Anna smirked inwardly. So, he sent her to clean up Susanne’s mess back in Paris. How typical of the Hyde family—never willing to get involved directly, even when it’s for their own flesh and blood. Pathetic miscreants.

"May I ask what you’re doing here?" Robert inquired again, his tone shifting to something more serious.

Anna shrugged nonchalantly. "This and that. Just looking for inspiration."

"Are you an artist?"

"In a way," she scoffed, twirling lightly before returning to his embrace. "Why do you ask?"

Robert scoffed as well, though his laughter was lighter, more genuine. "I just want to learn more about you."

Anna leaned in slightly, her lips curving into a mischievous grin. "Trust me, you don’t."

With an elegant recoil, she stepped back, leaving Robert utterly captivated by the enigmatic way she spoke. The music abruptly came to a stop, and Anna gave him a casual nod before turning, ready to walk away.

"Wait, Miss!" Robert called out, halting himself just before he could reach for her hand as he had before.

"Yes?" Anna shot him an impatient look, her brow arched.

"Could I ask you something else?"

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