My Deceased Wife Wants a Divorce (Hannah) novel Chapter 96

A sacrificial lamb. She refused to believe Lionel was stupid enough to fall for it. Xenia was nothing more than Sandra’s lapdog. Would she dare make a move without Sandra’s explicit orders?

Hannah looked down at the delicate porcelain cup in her hands, her thumb tracing its smooth rim. A cold sneer played on her lips as she looked up at the man sitting across from her.

No, she thought, it wasn’t that Lionel was stupid. It was that he thought she was.

“Speak!” Lionel commanded, seeing the mocking amusement in Hannah’s eyes. He knew she wasn’t buying it.

“I… I ran into Ms. Woods on my way home from work,” Xenia stammered. “I just said a few things, and the next day, I went with her to take the case from you.”

“A few things, and Sandra pounced on it like a dog on a bone? Sounds like she’d been eyeing my case for a while and was just waiting for an excuse, doesn’t it?”

Xenia’s face went pale. She had never expected Hannah to press for details.

Lionel’s brow furrowed, his displeasure evident. “I know you have issues with Sandra, but the truth is right in front of you. Why must you make things so difficult?”

Hannah’s hand, holding the teacup, froze mid-air. After a few seconds, she brought it to her lips and took another sip.

Difficult? His ability to see only what he wanted to see was truly remarkable.

“So, you believe this is the truth?” Hannah challenged him.

Lionel’s expression darkened, but he didn’t answer.

A heavy silence descended upon the room.

Hannah calmly refilled her cup, watching the clear tea swirl within it. A soft, humorless laugh escaped her.

“You’ve always been this way, Lionel. Whatever you decide is the truth becomes the truth. Since you’re convinced this is what happened, you’d just obstruct me even if I investigated it myself.”

She picked up the cup, a wave of profound disappointment washing over her. “The truth doesn’t matter anymore. I don’t care.”

Xenia was about to say more when she saw something that shocked her into silence. Lionel was… smiling. A bitter, resigned smile.

—

After leaving the tea house, Hannah sat in her car, her hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles were white. She took several deep breaths to calm herself, then pulled out her phone and sent a quick message before driving to the supermarket.

She bought a cartful of groceries and headed home, tying on an apron the moment she walked through the door. Even though the apartment was supposed to be a temporary space, Quennel’s housekeeper had stocked it with all the essentials—spices, pots, pans, everything was there.

Two hours later, a lavish feast covered the dining table: shrimp scampi, creamy bacon carbonara, salmon and avocado tartare, pan-seared steak, and dessert. She had chosen the peaches specifically for Quennel, remembering from their few family dinners together that he always seemed to enjoy them.

Knock, knock, knock.

The doorbell rang just as she finished setting the table. Hannah untied her apron and went to answer it.