The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 67

The next morning.

Danielle got up early to drive Niki to school.

Since both kids attended the same school, it was inevitable that their paths would cross.

Raffy hopped out of the black Mercedes, clutching a remote-control airplane—an even bigger, flashier model than the one he'd shown off at the hospital. This new toy, a fighter jet that could actually fire projectiles, was a gift from his mother Millie. The last time he'd brought a plane to school, the other preschoolers had been green with envy.

Spotting Niki and Danielle, Raffy smirked with unmistakable pride. "Bet you've never seen anything like this before, have you?"

Danielle ignored him; toys like that hardly impressed her. She glanced at her watch, anxious about making it to her first day at Ninesky Technologies on time.

"Niki, stay away from Raffy," she said quietly, "especially when he's playing with that plane."

It was obvious to her at a glance that the toy could really shoot things. Maybe it wasn't dangerous for an adult, but for young children, it was risky. Danielle suspected Millie had made the plane herself, but who knew how powerful those projectiles really were?

Niki didn't quite understand her mother's concern but nodded obediently. "Okay, Mom. I will."

—

Morning rush hour was brutal. Even though Danielle had left a full hour early, she still found herself crawling through traffic.

She arrived at Ninesky Technologies with minutes to spare, parked, grabbed her coffee from the cupholder, and hurried toward the building.

As she rushed through the lobby, another figure was moving just as quickly from the opposite direction. They both tried to sidestep—and collided hard. Danielle's coffee splashed all over the other woman.

"Ouch—hey, watch it, gorgeous! You in a hurry or—" Millie stopped mid-sentence when she looked up and saw Danielle. "Oh. Danielle?"

Millie had crashed into her on purpose—just to make a point, just to show off. Every move, every word was precisely calculated to look "accidental."

Danielle's lips curled into a cold, thin smile. "Don't call me that again. If you're not disgusted, I certainly am."

Without waiting for a response, she strode into the elevator, heels clicking sharply against the marble.

—

"Cutting it a bit close, aren't you?"

Gian glanced at the stains on Danielle's blouse. "Spilled your coffee again?"

"Some people go out of their way to get in your way." Danielle's voice was clipped. "I need to go wash up."