My Deceased Wife Wants a Divorce (Hannah) novel Chapter 198

SLAP!

Cora’s hand never reached the phone. Instead, Hannah’s palm connected with her cheek with a resounding crack.

Cora stumbled back, her hand flying to her face, which was already red and stinging. For a moment, she was too stunned to speak. Then, a low growl escaped her lips.

“You hit me!”

Hannah looked down at her, her eyes cold with contempt. She grabbed the front of Cora’s shirt and yanked her forward.

“Don’t forget your place, Cora,” she sneered. “No matter how much your mother is favored, she is still just a servant. And you are just a servant’s daughter.”

That was Cora’s biggest insecurity. Whenever anyone at school asked about her parents, she would say they were entrepreneurs, never admitting they were servants in a rich family’s home.

“And no matter how little he loves me, as long as we are not divorced, I am still Mrs. Hannah Rosenberg!” She released Cora with a shove. “And no matter how much Lionel adores Sandra, she is nothing but a homewrecker, a bankrupt socialite.”

The words tasted like ash in her mouth. There was no triumph in saying them, only a bitter, suffocating pain.

It was precisely because she knew she wasn’t loved that a servant’s daughter felt bold enough to challenge her.

She clenched her jaw. “Cora, do you really think Sandra is a good person? Do you think she’ll treat you well after you’ve served your purpose?”

Hannah stepped out from behind the desk, advancing on her slowly.

Fear flashed in Cora’s eyes, and she took an involuntary step back.

“Tell me. Did she tell you to drug me, or was it your own idea?”

Cora backed away until she was pressed against the window, her eyes darting to the view outside. She bit her lip, her resolve crumbling.

Cora’s head snapped to the side. She took a ragged breath and whipped her head back, her hair flying, her face now a blotchy red.

“Go on, hit me! Hit me again! Am I wrong?” she screamed, a crazed look in her eyes.

She didn’t know what had happened to Hannah today, but from her violent reaction, she could guess it was something terrible, something orchestrated by Sandra.

She tilted her chin up, ready for another blow, a look of desperate defiance on her face.

But instead, Hannah simply pointed to the door. “Get out.”

Cora froze, taken aback by the sudden command.

She stood there for a few seconds, watching as Hannah returned to her seat, completely unable to guess her next move.