My Deceased Wife Wants a Divorce (Hannah) novel Chapter 241

"You could even ask for a stake in the Rosenberg Group. I'm sure he'd give it to you. After all, Lionel adores you so much he'd pluck the very stars from the sky for you."

Hannah’s words were laced with a saccharine smile, but her eyes held a sharp, piercing glint. With that parting shot, she turned to leave. As she passed Lionel, she paused for a brief moment. Her gaze turned to ice as it swept over him from head to toe before she continued on her way.

Speaking with Sandra had brought it all flooding back—just how much of a wreck her relationship with Lionel had become. She knew he had suspected her of being involved in Sandra's brother's car accident, even if he'd never said it outright. And she had no idea what kind of conversation could have possibly led to him trying to placate her with divorce papers.

If their marriage was just a tool to manipulate her, then what were ninety-nine red roses supposed to mean? So why was she being so stubborn now, refusing his gesture? They had already reached the end of the road. What did it matter what he gave her? Breakfast, lunch, dinner… what did any of it matter? She'd already given him up.

Maybe it was because she had been too young three years ago, too deeply in love. Even after such a monumental misunderstanding, all she had wanted was to marry him. She was convinced that if she just tried harder, if she could just be better, it would all work out. She had truly believed she was the one who had appeared at his lowest point, right when he needed someone the most.

But perhaps… perhaps Lionel had been in love with Sandra all along. Back then, Sandra was a wealthy heiress and he was a struggling orphan. He must have seen her as an untouchable star, completely out of his league, and buried his feelings deep inside. Unable to have the woman he truly wanted, he’d been saddled with her instead—the obstacle in his path. And he must have hated her, despised her, and resented her for it ever since.

Fueled by a stubborn pride, she forced herself to walk out of the hospital room. But her legs grew weak, and a suffocating tightness seized her chest, as if a thousand daggers were piercing her heart. Hannah threw a hand out to steady herself against the wall, forcing one foot in front of the other.

A sharp pain lanced through her heart, making every breath feel like tearing tissue. The agony shot through her entire body, so intense she barely dared to breathe. She clutched at her chest, her teeth clenched, her brow furrowed so tightly that her vision began to tunnel and fade to black.

Just before she lost consciousness, she saw a familiar figure sprinting toward her.

"Mr. Lancaster, what are you doing here? Did you bring me to the hospital?"

"It was Peter Temple," Yves explained, picking up a chart from the bedside table. "He was here picking up a prescription for a relative when he saw you collapse. He got a doctor and then called me immediately."

He looked at the chart, his expression grim. "The doctor told me you fainted just the day before yesterday, and now this… Do you have any idea how dangerous this is? It could be a precursor to a heart attack!"

His voice grew more agitated as he spoke, but then he seemed to catch himself, sighing deeply. "Hannah, is it worth destroying yourself over a man like him? Can't you… can’t you just learn to take care of yourself?"