My Deceased Wife Wants a Divorce (Hannah) novel Chapter 230

Hannah stared at Quennel, stunned.

Seeing her confusion, he gave a small, humorless smile.

“As long as that engagement isn’t broken, it doesn’t matter if Sandra breaks her leg or ends up crippled for life.”

Quennel took off his glasses, his eyes burning with a dark intensity as he looked at her. He thought yesterday’s lesson would have been enough to knock some sense into Lionel, but apparently, he had been too soft. He should have aimed for his existing injuries, put both him and Sandra in the hospital together. What a waste of time, calling just to spew empty promises he had no intention of keeping.

The words died on Hannah’s lips. She let out a long sigh, her eyes downcast. “…Just leave it,” she said softly. “If he finds out, he’ll just blame me for calling them again.”

He was always like that, blindly blaming her, accusing her, without ever bothering to get the facts straight.

Quennel saw the utter disillusionment in her eyes. A spark of something lit up in his gaze before being just as quickly extinguished.

“Fine. If that’s what you want, I’ll listen to you,” he said, putting his glasses back on. “Get some rest. Call me if you need anything.”

“Okay.”

Quennel walked back to his desk, opened a chat with his assistant, and told him to notify Kim’s parents and have them take their son to the hospital.

He wasn’t about to let Lionel get away with hurting Hannah like this.

-

In the VIP hospital room, Lionel sat on the sofa, his phone in his hand. He kept opening Hannah’s chat, staring at the blank screen, trying to figure out what to say.

The moment he was out the door, Cora followed him. She had been standing nearby and had seen him repeatedly opening Hannah’s chat. It wasn't hard to guess what he was about to do.

“Sir!” she called out, catching up to him. “Are you going to message your wife?”

“This has nothing to do with you. Didn’t you hear me when I told you to go home?” he warned, his voice a low hiss.

“You saw what Ms. Woods is like right now. You and your wife just had a small misunderstanding. If she had any decency, she would trust you and understand the situation.”

She sighed dramatically. “If it weren’t for your wife, Ms. Woods never would have tried to kill herself in the first place.”

“This has nothing to do with Hannah!” he snapped, his eyes darkening. He had misunderstood her before, but now he knew the truth. The real puppet master was Quennel.