The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 579

He sobbed and stammered out his apology.

Danielle lowered her eyes, watching him, listening to every word that tumbled from his mouth.

So it turned out Millie hadn’t been the one always letting herself into the master bedroom after all—it was Raffy who’d kept opening the door for her all along.

Raffy was a mess, tears and snot streaming down his face, but Alexander never once looked his way.

Soon enough, Leanne arrived and marched Raffy away, the two of them sneaking out of the birthday banquet like beaten dogs.

Leanne’s face showed clear reluctance and resentment.

Alexander slowly turned to Nash, his voice low and calm: “Keep an eye on them. Don’t let either of them leave the country.”

Nash nodded in silent understanding and left right away.

Alexander composed himself, then offered a measured smile and a slight nod to the assembled guests. “I apologize for the unexpected disturbance tonight. Thank you all for your patience and understanding. Let’s continue the celebration.”

With that, he drew a line under the whole ugly episode.

The banquet resumed, the staff moving seamlessly as if nothing had happened.

Gian and Kirsten exchanged uneasy glances.

No one had expected tonight to devolve into this—not the guests, not Danielle, not even Alexander himself.

Danielle had always believed, deep down, that Alexander cared for Millie. Now she realized she’d been utterly mistaken. Alexander had never loved her, and certainly didn’t care for Millie either.

Everyone he disliked—or anyone who got in his way—he’d find a way to deal with, without hesitation.

Kirsten turned to Danielle, her voice low but edged with a kind of relief. “Honestly, I’m grateful you got out of that marriage when you did. A man like him—if he were sleeping next to me, I’d keep a knife under my pillow every night.”

She said it half-joking, but then she reached out and hugged Danielle tightly.

“You survived years of marriage with him. That’s nothing short of miraculous.”

Danielle could only offer a wry, speechless smile.

Alexander was calculating, resourceful—there was nothing anyone could force him to do if he set his mind against it. And even if someone did manage to box him in, he’d always find a way out, always dispose of anyone he found intolerable.

No one possessed his calm, his unflappable poise.

But it was precisely those who could hide their emotions, who never lost their cool, that you had to fear most. You never knew when the blade would come for you—whether it would strike quick, or whether you’d find yourself slowly, imperceptibly destroyed, like a frog in boiling water.

—

Nathan strode over to Alexander, stopping just in front of him.

He placed a hand on Alexander’s shoulder and gave it a light pat. “You handled things well tonight. How much groundwork did you lay for this? How much planning—and were you really willing to sacrifice your wife and daughter for it?”

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