The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 110

Vivian stormed out of the tearoom, her chest tight with barely contained rage. She'd been humiliated in broad daylight, and there hadn't been a single thing she could say in her own defense.

"I can't believe Alexander would treat you like that," Danielle's mother said, her face even paler than before, tiny beads of sweat breaking out across her forehead. "If I'd known, I never would have let you suffer through all those hard years."

Danielle shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's all right, Mom. It's over now." People had to keep looking forward, she told herself, even if the past still stung.

The afternoon sun was merciless, beating down without pity.

Vivian took one look at Danielle and frowned with concern. "Are you getting heatstroke?"

She pressed her lips together, brow furrowed. "Wait here for a minute. I'll bring the car around and take you to the hospital."

The parking lot wasn't far, but crossing it meant stepping out into the searing sun.

Danielle felt lightheaded, vision swimming. She nodded faintly, leaning against the doorframe for support.

Vivian hurried off to fetch the car.

Danielle's wrist throbbed with pain. She glanced down at the bandage—she'd overstrained it last night, working late to finish that 3D model presentation. Now, a faint spot of blood seeped through the gauze. She frowned, making a silent note to have it checked out at the hospital later. Last night had forced her to push her body past its limits.

The investment hadn't come through today, but it hadn't been a waste. She could still take the proposal and try her luck with other investors.

"Still not better?"

A cool, detached male voice cut through her thoughts. Danielle turned and saw Alexander regarding her with an indifferent glance, his eyes flicking to her injured wrist. He'd come out alone—Millie and Leanne must still be inside, talking specifics with Mr. Evans.

He sounded almost as if he was making conversation out of politeness, a habit Danielle had long since gotten used to. She didn't reply; she simply didn't have the energy.

They stood in silence for a while.

Just then, Nash pulled the car up to the entrance.

Alexander spoke, his tone as even as ever. "There's some imported ointment for scars in the glovebox. You should use it."

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