The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 1237

Danielle was in her hospital room when the door was suddenly thrown open. Men rushed in, seizing her and dragging her to another room.

“What are you doing?” she cried out.

“Just be quiet,” one of them grunted. “We do what the boss tells us to do.”

The next moment, Danielle was shoved into a dark, cold room. She found herself on a frigid, metal-framed bed, her wrists bound with coarse rope that was already chafing her skin, leaving an angry red mark.

She didn’t know how much time had passed before the lock clicked open. Lorie walked in, the sharp sound of her heels echoing on the concrete floor. She was dressed in an expensive camel coat, her makeup flawless, a stark contrast to the dilapidated room. She walked right up to Danielle and stood over her, her gaze dripping with an icy, almost manic satisfaction.

“Did you know,” Lorie began, her voice soft as she reached out, her fingertips lightly tracing Danielle’s pale cheek, “that whether Alexander lives or dies depends on a single word from me? The bullet grazed his heart. A millimeter more or less, and he’d be meeting his maker.” Lorie leaned in closer. “The doctors said his survival depends on his will to live. But I’m going to let him know that his will to live is held firmly in my hands.”

Danielle’s eyelashes fluttered, but she didn’t look up or struggle. Her throat was so dry that every swallow felt like swallowing needles, yet she managed to force out a few words, her voice raspy but firm. “As long as he’s alive.”

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