The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 224

“And besides signing the contract, there’s something else I need to discuss with you.”

—

The call ended.

Danielle let out a long breath. No matter how much she wanted to refuse, in the end, she ordered a cab and headed toward the house that was supposed to be their marital home.

After all, he was the one who bought it—at twice the asking price, no less. If there was one thing she couldn’t bring herself to turn down, it was money. Especially since the house had sat on the market for months with zero interest.

When she arrived, Julia opened the door.

Raffy sat in the living room, toys scattered around him. The instant he saw Danielle, his face darkened.

“I told you, this is my home,” he said, his voice still childishly soft. He huffed, then turned back to his toys, treating her like invisible air.

“Back already?” Alexander’s voice drifted down from the landing upstairs.

He stood there, looking down at her, dressed in silk loungewear that made him look both effortlessly elegant and just a bit aloof.

“Come to the study. The contract’s ready. Once you sign, the money will be transferred to your account.”

His eyes betrayed nothing—cold, unreadable.

Danielle pressed her lips together and walked directly to the study.

She glanced at the contract waiting on the desk.

Alexander was already seated on the leather sofa, one leg crossed over the other, gaze fixed on the paperwork. “Go ahead. Look it over.”

Danielle lowered her eyes, picked it up, and skimmed through.

She nearly laughed at how absurd it all felt—signing the deed over to herself, only to sign it right back. All this, just to put on a show for Millie and Raffy.

She finished reading and signed without hesitation.

Alexander watched her, then asked, “Did Millie upset you at Ninesky?”

He spoke with the easy tone of someone making small talk, but there was a hint of accusation buried in his words.

“That was a senior management decision. She’s already been let go,” Danielle replied, setting the pen down and rising. “If you’re looking for someone to blame, maybe ask her what she did at the company.”

Alexander’s eyes lingered on her for several seconds. He didn’t argue. Instead, he tucked the contract away and turned his head slightly. “Millie’s grandfather, Randolph Fletcher, passed away.”

All she had to do was wait for the mandatory waiting period to end, sign the final divorce papers, and she’d be free.

“Fine. I’ll go on my own.”

“I’ll pick you up,” Alexander repeated, each word clipped and final.

His mind was made up; he wouldn’t budge.

Showing up at the memorial separately would be a scandal in itself.

Danielle didn’t bother yielding to his overbearing tone. “I said I’ll go. As for how, we’ll see.”

Alexander studied her for a moment, then, unexpectedly, smiled.

“When it comes to Millie, try to keep your personal feelings out of it.”

“You were angry, then had her fired, and now you’re acting strangely. What did she do to you?”

Danielle gave a cold, crooked smile. “Does it even matter what I say—to you?”