The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 1077

The sound of Orson slamming the door echoed in the private room, leaving a dead silence in its wake. The clinking of utensils stopped. Even the children held their breath, looking timidly at Vivian's ashen face.

Kirsten's lips parted, about to offer some words of comfort to break the tension, when the door was pushed open once more.

Alexander stood in the doorway, his posture straight and tall in a black overcoat. He carried the chill of the late autumn night with him. Holding an elegant gift box, his gaze scanned the room before finally settling on Danielle.

"Happy birthday, ma'am," he said, his voice deep and steady, betraying little emotion. "I knew it was your birthday, so I felt I should stop by."

Vivian's expression, already dark, turned icy enough to freeze the air the moment she saw Alexander. She had just gotten rid of that plague Orson, only to have another infuriating person show up. Suppressing her anger, she said curtly, "You're not welcome here."

Danielle was completely stunned, her fork frozen mid-air. She never imagined Alexander would show up uninvited. Their arrangement was strictly limited to cooperating for Niki's protection; it never extended to their personal lives, let alone her mother's birthday party.

Beside her, Raffy's eyes lit up the moment he saw Alexander, like tiny stars igniting in the night. He instinctively took a step forward, the word "Dad" almost escaping his lips. But he swallowed it back down, remembering that his dad had left his mom, was engaged to someone else, and didn't want him anymore. His small body shrank back, and he lowered his head, crestfallen.

Harold's fingers paused as he held his coffee cup. He narrowed his eyes, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "This birthday dinner is certainly lively."

"I said, you're not welcome," Vivian repeated, her sharp gaze fixed on Alexander. "Please leave."

Alexander didn't move. He simply held the gift box forward. "I'll just leave the gift and go. I won't disturb you for long."

Alexander's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. The fact that he needed Harold to intervene for him to stay stung.

Kirsten, watching from the side, couldn't help but scoff internally. Alexander had brought this all on himself. He'd burned his bridges so thoroughly back then; trying to mend them now wouldn't be easy. If Harold hadn't stepped in, he probably would have had to leave in disgrace.

Harold expected Alexander wouldn't actually take the seat. But to his surprise, Alexander calmly sat down in the empty chair.

Harold was left speechless.