The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 263

Danielle sat in the car, her expression unreadable, eyes steady and calm.

Gian couldn’t help but shake his head, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.

Maybe he’d never truly understood her before. Now, though, he realized that cunning was simply a part of Danielle’s nature.

Resting one arm on the window, Gian spoke with a measured tone. “Alexander is throwing money at Millie, and with those resources, she actually has the nerve to compete with us. This time, she knew exactly where our negotiations would take place. Who leaked the information?”

“They’re clearly trying to sabotage our agreement, right at the finish line.”

“How much does he hate you, exactly?”

It was always something—one blow after another, relentless pressure aimed straight at them.

Danielle gripped the steering wheel with one hand, eyes fixed on the road ahead. A quiet laugh slipped out. “Hate?”

“What right does he have to hate me?”

She thought back—not to the accusations that she’d stolen his chance at love.

He’d compromised, married her, but kept her and their daughter at arm’s length. Outwardly, he’d claimed their twins as his own, raising Raffy as if she were truly his.

In the end, both she and her daughter had paid the ultimate price.

Compared to that, was stealing his so-called love really such an unforgivable crime?

If anyone had a right to hate, it was her.

These doomed affairs always ended in ruin for both sides.

But because their families and social status were worlds apart, in the end, she was the only one left bleeding.

There was no absolute right or wrong here. If she hadn’t clung so stubbornly to her own illusions—if she hadn’t insisted on going down a dead-end road—maybe the tragedy of her past life could have been avoided.

She’d always held onto hope that was never really there.

He never loved her, but she just wouldn’t let go.

Gian’s gaze lingered on Danielle, eyes dark and thoughtful.

After a long silence, he sighed.

“What a mess.”

—

Meanwhile—

After wrapping up her work at Ninesky, Danielle got a call from Alexander.

He told her to come back to the family estate for dinner.

Her grandmother had gone out with a hunting party today and brought back wild pheasant.

Danielle rubbed her temples, a headache settling in. “Tell her I’m busy with work. I don’t have time.”

The divorce agreement forced her to keep things under wraps for a year, so she had no choice.

Alexander’s voice was flat and detached. “Alright.”

He hung up without another word.

Moments later, Danielle’s phone rang again. This time, it was the family estate.

Her grandmother.

“Dani, honey, I went up the mountain today with a proper hunting crew and bagged a wild pheasant. It used to be your favorite, and I figured it’s been ages since you’ve had it. I even had the cook make a special stew for you. Will you be home for dinner tonight?”