The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 227

The window of the Maybach’s driver’s seat slid down with a quiet hum.

Nash leaned his head out, impatience written all over his face as he urged, “Come on, pick up the pace. We’re going to be late.”

Danielle stopped in her tracks.

It wasn’t much of a distance, but lately she’d been fighting a cold and didn’t want to risk getting drenched right now.

She frowned, but braced herself against the wind and hurried toward the car.

Cold rain lashed her, stinging her cheeks and seeping into her bones.

Danielle knew Alexander was in the back seat, so she went straight for the front passenger door and climbed in.

Raindrops clung to her hair. She lowered her gaze and brushed the moisture away with her fingers.

When Nash saw her take the front seat, his eyes widened in surprise.

He’d never expected her to just slip into the front like that.

“This…” Nash darted a glance at the rearview mirror.

In the back seat, Alexander sat dressed in black, his presence cold and distant.

His face showed no emotion—just that frosty indifference of his.

“We’re running late, aren’t we? Let’s go,” Danielle said flatly.

The sooner they got there, the sooner it would be over.

She hated these kinds of gatherings—best to show her face and get it done.

“Sit in the back,” Alexander’s voice was cool, almost bored.

Danielle didn’t look at him. “The front seat’s fine.”

It was obvious his patience was wearing thin. “I won’t repeat myself a third time.”

“You know what happens if you don’t listen.”

The divorce wasn’t final yet.

Danielle knew exactly what he meant. If Alexander decided to fight dirty for Niki’s custody, she didn’t have the strength to win right now.

There was no point in losing the bigger battle over a moment’s stubbornness.

In the end, she climbed into the back seat.

The car ride was silent all the way to the Fletcher estate.

Outside, the entrance was draped in white canopies and lanterns—symbols of mourning.

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