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The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 133

Nothing in her life, Danielle thought, could ever measure up to Millie in his eyes.

Helen turned to her. "You called him just now. What did he say?"

Danielle pressed her lips together. "He said he was busy."

Clyde let out a cold, derisive laugh. "How much money does he need to make? On a day like this, and he's still too busy?"

Danielle didn't answer.

He wasn't really busy.

The truth was, she never mattered to him at all.

To be precise, she'd never even registered in his eyes.

Grandma's face darkened, but, faced with her brother's scolding, she tried to smooth things over with a few kind words before stepping aside to call Alexander again.

This time, he didn't even pick up.

Her expression grew even gloomier.

The memorial service was about to begin when Orson arrived.

"No one thought to invite me on a day as important as this?" he announced, striding in.

Vivian's face fell instantly.

Danielle saw Orson and narrowed her eyes, stepping in front of her mother. "You're not welcome here."

He never needed an invitation—he was only here because he couldn't bear to let go of the shares in SoarCorp that Vivian controlled.

He'd found Leanne as his mistress, stringing Vivian along without ever divorcing her, and now Leanne's daughter, Millie, was the very woman who'd come between Danielle and her husband.

Like mother, like daughter, Danielle thought bitterly. They were born to be homewreckers—always leeching off her family.

Orson scowled, his voice cold and stern. "Have you forgotten how to show respect? I'm your father. This is your grandmother's memorial. Are you telling me I don't belong here?"

Businessmen, no matter how big or small, always made an appearance on days like this, as long as the marriage was still legally intact. Orson always arrived, right on cue.

Then, lowering his voice so only Danielle could hear, he added, "You know Alexander only cares about Millie. As your father, I'm telling you—you're wasting your time. Just get divorced, for everyone's sake. You'll both be better off, and at least then no one can say you couldn't keep your own husband."

Danielle felt her chest tighten, as if each word cut her open.

Orson watched her face grow pale and pressed on. "You've spent years trying to win him over—has it gotten you anywhere? He's not even here for your grandmother's third anniversary. There's no point dragging this out. Get the divorce, let them be together, and Alexander might even remember you fondly."

The more Danielle listened, the more she wanted to laugh.

Was it really her refusing to let go, or someone else refusing to cut ties? Alexander was just waiting for Grandma to lose her faculties—then Millie could waltz right in. For now, he strung Danielle along, waiting for the right moment to kick her out of the Davidson family for good.

She and Alexander had nothing left to say. She'd already filed for divorce.

As for how to break the news, she'd find time to gently prepare her grandmother.

Danielle was about to speak when a cool, steady voice cut through the tension—

"Sorry I'm late. Something came up."

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