Hannah hesitated for a moment before answering.
“Hello.”
“Where are you?!”
A man’s furious roar erupted from the other end of the line. It was Lionel. Hannah’s expression turned to ice.
“What is it?”
“Do you have any idea what happened to Sandra?”
Hannah took a slow, deliberate breath. “I just saw the news. And?”
There was a tense silence, followed by a growl of pure rage. “And? And she was nearly killed because of you!”
Hannah let out a humorless laugh, rising from the sofa. “How, exactly, did I almost get her killed? Did I stop you from saving her? Did I hire the man who attacked her? Lionel, I know you’re upset that your precious mistress got hurt, but what does that have to do with me?”
Sometimes she wondered if Lionel had some kind of rage disorder. Every time something happened to Sandra, he turned into a brainless, irrational monster, lashing out at her with wild accusations and baseless blame. He had insulted and degraded her, stopping just short of physical violence.
“You dare say this has nothing to do with you?” he demanded, his voice a low, threatening snarl. “I gave you that case in the first place. If you had handled it properly, none of this would have happened to Sandra!”
“This is all because you were being petty and selfish. You deliberately refused to help her, and now she’s being targeted for revenge.”
His words were so absurd she couldn’t help but laugh again, pushing her hair back from her face in exasperation. Right now, she wanted nothing more than to drive a car straight into both of them, then back up and run them over again and again until they were nothing but a smear on the pavement.
“Why aren’t you saying anything? Feeling guilty? Regretful?” he sneered into the silence. “I’m telling you, you are to get over here right now and apologize to Sandra.”


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