My Deceased Wife Wants a Divorce (Hannah) novel Chapter 175

Why?

Why was it that even after she was married, men still flocked to her, protected her? What was so special about her? She was just an orphan!

Sandra's mind filled with vicious fantasies of torturing Hannah, but the image from the video—the man, hamstrung and bleeding, his screams echoing in her memory—brought her back to reality. Quennel had found him at the border so quickly. That horrifying image, the sight of severed tendons... she subconsciously clutched her own wrist.

Quennel wasn't just posturing. He would actually do it. He was a monster disguised as a gentleman.

Buzz. Her phone vibrated. Another message from Hannah.

Hannah: [Next time you want to slander me, do it to my face. That way I can sue you for defamation.]

Before Sandra could process it, two more messages came through. They were video files.

One was from the living room, showing her "explaining" the misunderstanding to Lionel.

The other was from the study, showing Cora tattling to Hannah about her visit.

A raw, furious scream ripped from her throat. She hurled her phone onto the passenger seat.

"Ah! That bitch Cora! A filthy tattle-tale! Damn her!"

Sandra gritted her teeth, panting heavily as she stared at the phone, her eyes slowly hardening.

If she went after Hannah again, Quennel would destroy her. But if she used Cora...

She picked up the phone and dialed Lily's number. With the mother-daughter pair living in the mansion, it would be much easier to make a move.

"Ms. Woods?" Lily answered, having rushed into her bathroom for privacy. "Why are you calling so suddenly?"

"Lily, it's been a while..."

—

Could it be Quennel? No, that didn't seem right either. Quennel was an upright man; such a vicious act wasn't his style.

Lionel?

While she didn't think he was capable of such cruelty, she couldn't think of anyone else.

The more she thought, the more her head ached. She decided to drop it. In the end, it all led back to Sandra anyway.

Lionel had also seen the news that morning. His team had just identified the culprit when he learned someone had already gotten to him, and with terrifying speed.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Find out who did this."

Owen nodded, but as his eyes fell on the photo in the file, he froze, his pupils contracting.

He knew this man.