My Deceased Wife Wants a Divorce (Hannah) novel Chapter 22

“I’m here! Just give me a second, I’m on my wa—”

Before she could finish, her phone died. Luckily, she’d memorized the license plate and spotted the car immediately. Once she was inside, the driver headed toward the villa district.

Meanwhile, Lionel sent a text to Hannah. She usually replied in seconds, but two, then three minutes passed with no response. His expression darkened. He tossed his phone onto the passenger seat and floored the accelerator, peeling away from the curb.

...

At the Rosenberg estate, Hannah walked in, soaked to the bone. Mrs. Rosenberg Sr. , coming down the stairs, saw her and immediately began to fuss, ordering her to take a hot bath and telling the kitchen staff to prepare some ginger tea.

“What is this! Didn’t that little brat Lionel pick you up from work? That good-for-nothing boy, he promised me this morning he would! Get upstairs, now! When he gets back, I will give him a piece of my mind for you!”

Hannah didn’t have a chance to explain before Mrs. Rosenberg Sr. was shooing her up the stairs.

When she came back down after her bath, she could hear a volley of shouting from the living room.

“I told you to take care of your wife, and you let her come home in a downpour! If you were busy, couldn’t you have sent your assistant to pick her up?”

“I’m telling you, if she catches a cold, I’ll have your hide! Why don’t you know how to care for people, you foolish boy?”

“The doctor said her health is fragile, and she came home with her clothes half-soaked! Soaked right through!”

Lionel had barely stepped through the door before a throw pillow hit him squarely in the chest. Before he could ask what was wrong, his grandmother launched into a tirade. When she finally paused for breath, he managed to ask, “Is Hannah back?”

His grandmother looked like she might faint from sheer fury. She pointed a trembling finger at him, sputtering, “You—you—you don’t even know if your own wife is home? What kind of husband are you? Good heavens, how did the Rosenberg family produce someone so heartless?”

Mrs. Rosenberg Sr. froze, looking from Lionel to Hannah in disbelief.

“Hannah, dear, tell me what happened. Why would you suddenly go to the Lancaster family’s company? Did this brat say something to you in the car? Don’t you worry, I’m here for you!” She took Hannah’s hand, a protective glint in her eyes.

Hannah shook her head, her expression unreadable. “After all those years at my old firm without a promotion or any significant cases, I figured my current experience wouldn’t be enough for the Rosenberg Group. People would just gossip.”

From the moment Sandra had stepped into her old firm, Hannah’s career had felt like it was stuck on pause.

“I guess the Keystone Group will take anyone, then,” Lionel said dismissively as he plugged her phone in to charge.

“They just happened to have a director who knows talent when he sees it. But your legal department really should hire some new blood.”