The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 93

Alexander lifted a hand and rubbed his temples, brushing it off as nothing. "Run a bath for me, and get something ready to help with this hangover," he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Danielle watched him, her eyes filled with cold, biting ridicule.

What did he take her for? Some free housekeeper, a convenient woman to bear his children and keep his life in order?

There was a time, not so long ago, when she wouldn't have needed to be told. She would've looked after him without hesitation, fussing over every discomfort, afraid he might feel even a bit unwell.

But now, Danielle just found it all vaguely ridiculous. Even in a drunken haze, when his mind was clouded and his words slurred, he still treated her like the help—someone to be brushed off, someone to be used.

She'd loved this man for so many years. Looking back, she realized just how foolish she'd been, how stubbornly blind.

A cold, mocking laugh slipped from her lips. "Why don't you ask your darling Millie to take care of you?"

Danielle walked out of the house, just in time to run into Millie, who was coming back in after a phone call.

"Danielle, did you already run the bath for him?" Millie asked.

Danielle curled her lips in a sharp, silent smile, said nothing, and walked right past her.

Millie watched her retreating figure for a few seconds, then turned and went back inside.

Once outside the gated community, Danielle drew a deep breath of fresh evening air. The tightness in her chest eased a little; she felt lighter already.

If she couldn't get the brooch back tomorrow, she'd find another way.

—

The next day.

Danielle's phone buzzed with a text: her appeal had been accepted, the case officially filed. The paperwork was already in the mail.

It was a local courier—if all went as expected, Alexander would get the delivery today.

Seeing the message, Danielle felt a weight lift slightly from her heart.

—

Alexander woke up with a throbbing hangover.

When he went downstairs, he called out automatically for Danielle to bring him a glass of milk.

Julia, the housekeeper, poked her head out from the kitchen. "Sir, Mrs. Davidson isn't home again today. I'll warm up some milk for you, if you'd like."

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