My Deceased Wife Wants a Divorce (Hannah) novel Chapter 231

“Nothing to do with her? My mother told me that your wife and Mr. Quennel Rosenberg aren’t particularly close. He rarely gets involved in your personal affairs. But recently, she’s been staying at his house, spending all this time alone with him.”

“It’s possible she complained to him, and he decided to get some justice for her. Everyone knows he doesn’t like you, and now he has the perfect excuse.”

Cora’s voice grew louder and more frantic with each word, as if she wanted to shout it directly into his ear.

She would not let him go to Hannah. If they were going to fight, it had to be an explosive, irreconcilable one. The kind that ended with them never speaking again, even after the divorce was final. She couldn't risk him apologizing and having that weak-willed Hannah forgive him, allowing them to go back to being a happy couple.

Her words struck a nerve. Something about it didn’t feel right. On the surface, Quennel had always been amicable, never fighting for control of the family business. But behind the scenes, he was always pulling strings. And he never interfered in these kinds of matters. Why would he suddenly play matchmaker just because David asked?

Sensing his hesitation, Cora immediately changed her tune.

“If you insist on going, then go. I’ll tell Ms. Woods you had a work emergency. She won’t suspect a thing.”

With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Lionel to stew in his own thoughts.

As she rounded the corner, she pulled her phone out of her pocket. The screen showed an active call.

“Ms. Woods, Mr. Rosenberg is wavering. I think he might be on his way over,” she whispered, glancing over her shoulder to make sure Lionel wasn’t following.

Sandra said nothing and hung up. She stared at her phone, a dark, humorless smile spreading across her face.

“The wedding is tomorrow, and you pull a stunt like this? Who are you trying to put on a show for?” Kim’s mother, Miranda Rosenberg, walked to the bedside. She took one look at the tubes and the catheter bag hanging beside the bed and recoiled in disgust.

“You’re lucky we weren’t planning a big ceremony. If we had sent out invitations, you’d be rolling down that aisle in a wheelchair tomorrow, you hear me?”

Sandra’s hands, hidden beneath the sheets, clenched tightly. She stared at the open door, a wave of panic and helplessness choking her.

“Sandra, marrying my son is the best thing that will ever happen to you. If you really don’t want to, the only way out is death. Don’t even think about backing out now!”

Her eyelashes trembled. Suddenly, she saw a pair of shoes appear in the doorway and her head snapped up, her eyes wide with hope.