The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 723

He pressed his lips together before speaking. “Mr. Davidson… he actually loves you the most. Do you know that?”

Danielle’s heart jolted, as if something sharp had pierced straight through.

Love? Did he really love her?

If coldness could be called love, then perhaps he did.

All she felt was a crushing weight.

“That isn’t love,” Danielle said quietly, her voice edged with exhaustion and confusion. “Nash, you don’t understand.”

Nash opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say more. Suddenly, someone knocked sharply on the car window.

Both of them turned to look outside. A man in a black jacket stood by the car, his expression tense and urgent.

Nash recognized him instantly—one of the men he’d stationed nearby as backup. His stomach clenched with dread. He hurriedly rolled down the window.

“What happened?” Nash demanded, his tone grave.

The man leaned in, his voice low and anxious. “There’s been an accident. Someone’s hurt!”

Nash’s face darkened at once; his heart leapt into his throat. “Who’s hurt? Where?”

“In the old house. The fire’s too big—we couldn’t get them out in time…” The man didn’t finish, but Nash understood immediately.

Nash’s pupils contracted; his breath caught.

He thought of one person—Mr. Davidson.

He’d left him inside the house just a short while ago. Mr. Davidson had insisted Nash take Danielle and go, saying he had other plans.

Now, none of that mattered. Nash flung open the car door, nearly forgetting to unbuckle his seatbelt in his haste.

He glanced back at Danielle, his eyes wild with panic and gravitas she’d never seen before. “Miss Crawford, stay here. Lock the doors and don’t get out, no matter what. I’ll be back soon!”

Without waiting for her reply, Nash rushed off with the man, disappearing into the darkness as they sprinted toward the burning house.

It would be better, she’d thought. If he was gone, everything would be over. He’d never torment her again, and the world would be free of him.

If he died, there would finally be peace.

Niki would never cry for her father.

Maybe, just maybe, all of their problems would disappear with him.

Danielle’s throat tightened, as if something was choking her from the inside out.

She opened the window and let the cool night air wash over her face, forcing herself to calm down, to breathe.

Just then, Niki stirred in her arms.

“Mommy…” Niki blinked sleepily, glancing around the car in confusion. “Where are we?”

Danielle gently stroked her daughter’s shoulder. “It’s alright, sweetheart. Go back to sleep…”