The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 643

Alexander arched a brow. “So, you won’t let me come in, but I can’t even stand outside and listen?”

His words made no sense, and yet he sounded deeply aggrieved, as if he were truly being denied something essential.

Danielle stared at the man before her, silent for a long moment. The air between them felt thick and unmoving.

Finally, it was Alexander who broke the silence. “You must know by now what my older brother thinks of you. He has feelings for you that he shouldn’t. My father once said something that I think rings true: you should keep your distance from him.”

Danielle frowned, her displeasure evident. “It seems like all of you want to dictate my every move. Am I just supposed to do whatever you say?”

Alexander’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“Danielle, I know the truth is hard to hear, but the more people try to stop you from doing something, the more determined you are to do it, aren’t you?” His gaze was intense. “So if someone tells you not to love, you insist on loving anyway.”

Her heart clenched, and she shot him a cold look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come with me,” Alexander said.

“And where exactly are we going?”

He looked down at her, his presence cool and commanding. “Didn’t you say you had things you wanted to ask me? That you wanted to talk? Let’s find somewhere quiet where we won’t be interrupted.”

Danielle couldn’t shake the feeling that something about Alexander was different. Once, he’d gone out of his way to avoid any hint of impropriety between them—he’d acted like a stranger, barely sparing her a glance. Now, though, he seemed almost approachable. If she wanted to talk, he was willing to listen. In the past, he would have turned away without a word, pretending not to know her.

This sudden shift didn’t come out of nowhere; there was always a reason for such things.

She hesitated only a moment before following him down the hall into what had once been their room at the old family estate.

To be accurate, it was no longer their room, but Alexander’s alone. Yet nothing inside had changed—not the furniture, not the arrangement, not even the smallest detail.

Alexander sank onto the sofa, crossing his long legs as he looked up at her. “Ask me whatever you want. Now’s your chance.”

Was he out of his mind? She wasn’t some kind of masochist.

Alexander’s voice was cool as ever. “Isn’t that the case?”

She drew a shaky breath. None of this mattered anymore. “I just want to know the truth. That night—were you in your right mind?”

“It’s been so long, and you’re still hung up on it?” Alexander watched her. “Didn’t I already give you an answer?”

“Was that really an honest answer? Or were you just trying to brush me off?”

Alexander’s expression grew more serious, his dark eyes fixed on her as he gave a slow, deliberate smile.

“So you want the truth?” His voice was low. “I love you. I wanted you. Is that enough?”