The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 1004

Danielle's hand holding the phone tightened, her nails digging into her palm. She knew Alexander was telling the truth. NextCore didn't lack for partners, but Ninesky desperately needed this opportunity. Taking a deep breath, she suppressed the hurt and discomfort, her voice returning to a calm, professional tone. “I understand. You'll have it in half an hour.”

After hanging up, Danielle dragged herself out of bed and over to her desk to open her laptop. The nausea was intensifying, and she gagged periodically as she worked on the revisions. Half an hour later, the updated contract was sent to Alexander's email, right on schedule.

Danielle shut down her computer, her strength completely gone, and collapsed onto the bed, falling into a heavy, restless sleep.

In the NextCore tower, Alexander was still in his office. On his computer screen was the contract Danielle had just sent. He reviewed the revised document carefully. The data was accurate, the clauses were clear; it was obvious she had put her full effort into it.

He picked up his phone, intending to send Danielle a message to tell her the revised version was fine, but his thumb hovered over the screen, unable to press 'send.' He recalled the hoarseness in her voice on the phone earlier, and her words, “I'm not feeling well right now,” echoed in his mind, stirring an unfamiliar sense of unease.

He dialed Nash's number, his tone neutral. “First thing tomorrow, go over to Ninesky and get the final version of the contract signed off. Also,” he added, “ask Danielle if she's feeling alright. If she's really unwell, tell her to take a couple of days off. The contract can wait.”

Nash was taken aback for a second before replying, “Yes, Mr. Davidson.”

-

The next morning, Danielle was still in bed, her eyelids as heavy as lead. A fever had crept up on her during the night, and she was burning up, her head fuzzy. Her throat felt as dry as sandpaper, and she didn't even have the strength to sit up.

At ten o'clock sharp, the NextCore video conference began. Danielle joined the call but left her camera off. Pale and with her hair in disarray, she had no desire to be seen by anyone in her current state.

“Ms. Crawford, can you hear us?” the meeting facilitator's voice asked through the speakers.

“Yes, I can hear you,” Danielle replied, clearing her throat. Her voice was still hoarse and heavy with exhaustion.

As the meeting got underway, each team reported on their progress. Leaning against her headboard, Danielle fought to concentrate, chiming in with her opinions and questions when necessary.