My Deceased Wife Wants a Divorce (Hannah) novel Chapter 177

Sandra took several deep breaths, her mind racing.

An idea suddenly struck her, and she quickly typed out a message.

As evening fell, dotting the sky with stars, Hannah drove to the restaurant she had booked. She had expected it would take a few days to coordinate schedules with both men, but they had settled on a time and place almost immediately.

The thought of facing both of them at once filled her with a strange anxiety. What would they talk about? What if it was awkward?

Half an hour later, she arrived. Quennel was already there.

"Mr. Lancaster has a last-minute meeting. He'll be a little late," she explained as she sat down.

"No matter. Are you hungry? We can order something first," Quennel said, passing her the menu.

Before Hannah could reply, a familiar voice cut in.

"Mr. Quennel Rosenberg, Ms. Green. What a coincidence to see you here."

They both turned. It was Sandra, with Lionel at her side.

The moment Lionel saw Hannah, his face darkened. He had sent her a message, and she hadn't replied. And here she was, having dinner with Quennel. He had warned her countless times that Quennel was not to be trusted, but she never listened.

"It is, isn't it?" Hannah said smoothly. "Quennel and Mr. Lancaster were a great help to me recently, so this is my way of thanking them. Mr. Lancaster will be here shortly."

As if on cue, Yves arrived.

The three of them chatted animatedly, moving from gratitude for their help to the quality of the food, to new business ventures, and finally, to praising Hannah's professional skills. Yves mentioned that he'd had to fend off several attempts from other firms trying to poach her.

Inevitably, the conversation circled back to the deepfake incident.

"If it weren't for Quennel and Mr. Lancaster, I don't know what I would have done," Hannah said sincerely.

"You work for me. Did you think I'd stand by and do nothing?" Yves retorted. "Especially since your husband has neither backbone nor a sense of responsibility. Divorcing him is the smartest choice you've ever made."

He glanced over at Lionel with a derisive snort. "Look at him, can't even wait for the ink on the divorce papers to dry. He was probably hoping you really had been ruined."

Lionel, who had been staring at his plate, was about to speak when a hand pressed down on his shoulder.