My Deceased Wife Wants a Divorce (Hannah) novel Chapter 181

“Don’t forget, Sandra only came running to you with an explanation after the investigation results came out. Think about it, Lionel. Stop lying to yourself.”

Clutching a change of clothes, Hannah walked into the bathroom, unwilling to waste another breath on him.

Lionel watched her leave, a suffocating weight settling in his chest. He staggered back and collapsed onto the nearby sofa.

He had believed the video, it was true. But his first reaction hadn't been disgust. It had been a sharp, protective ache for her. He’d been worried she was hurting, which was why he’d rushed to her side, promising to stand by her.

So how… how had everything fallen apart like this?

He dropped his head into his hands, his fingers digging into his scalp in a storm of frustration.

Hiding by the doorway, Cora watched the scene unfold. A smirk she couldn't contain spread across her face as she saw them fighting again.

Good, she thought. Let them fight. Let them scream the house down. Maybe they’ll even come to blows.

The only downside was that with them at each other’s throats, Hannah would never have the chance to discover the little surprise Cora had planted in Lionel’s car.

As she was plotting her next move, she saw her mother beckoning to her from down the hall.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed? Have you learned nothing?” Lily hissed in a low voice. “Tell me, how in the world did you get tangled up with Sandra from the Woods family?”

“Sandra? You mean that bankrupt socialite?”

“She called, asking to meet you,” Lily said, her voice tight with anxiety. “What mess have you gotten yourself into now? Who did you piss off? I’m telling you, we only have a few days left. You need to lie low and keep your head down. I’ve already gotten everything ready for you!”

Sandra’s smile was all teeth, her intentions anything but friendly. Cora’s guard went up another notch, but she returned the smile and accepted the bag.

Inside was a small, flat, square box. Cora placed it on the table, her mind racing with possibilities.

But the moment she opened it, her face fell. She slammed the lid shut, a prickling fear crawling up her spine. Her eyes darted around the room, ensuring no one was paying them any attention before she shoved the box back into the bag.

“You really should take better care of your things. Leaving them scattered about is not only embarrassing, but it could also cost you your job,” Sandra said, taking a delicate sip of her coffee. Seeing Cora’s grim expression, she smiled faintly and picked up another, much larger bag.

“The latest from this season’s collection. See if you like it.”

After the first “gift,” Cora was wary. She glanced at the bag but didn’t dare open it. “What do you want?”