The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 668

Danielle drew a deep breath, her brow furrowed as she stared at the man in front of her.

He was holding her so close she could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the warmth of his breath—so familiar, and yet, somehow, utterly foreign.

He gazed off into the distance, eyes fixed on something she couldn’t see. Instinctively, Danielle followed his line of sight, but there was nothing there—just an empty stretch of darkness.

By the time she looked back, he had already let her go.

Danielle frowned, a restless suspicion prickling beneath her skin. She glanced back toward the same spot, but it remained barren, void of anything.

Still, the icy chill crawling up her spine was anything but imagined.

She turned to Alexander. “Is someone over there?”

Someone must have been watching them—that was the only reason he’d stared so intently in that direction. The fact that he’d relaxed now meant whoever it was had gone.

He stood before her, his gaze calm and impenetrable, saying nothing.

His silence made her even more uneasy.

“Talk to me,” Danielle pressed, her patience wearing thin.

She couldn’t deny it: being yanked into the shadows moments earlier had sent a jolt of terror through her. But the instant she’d seen his face, an inexplicable sense of safety settled over her. She hated how instinctively she trusted him—how her emotions betrayed her every time.

“Come with me,” Alexander said quietly, reaching for her wrist and trying to lead her away.

But Danielle didn’t move. She wasn’t the obedient, acquiescent girl she used to be.

A sharp crack rang out.

A knife thudded into the wooden floor where they’d been standing just seconds before, the blade glinting cold and deadly under the dim light, still quivering from the force of its flight.

Danielle stared at the spot, cold sweat prickling along her skin. She looked up at Alexander, heart pounding.

He was already watching the darkness where the knife had come from, his eyes cold and voice low. “Come with me.”

His movements were steady, unhurried, but the air around him had turned icy.

There were no cameras in this part of the hall—it would be nearly impossible to find out who had thrown the knife.