My Deceased Wife Wants a Divorce (Hannah) novel Chapter 647

Seeing their expressions, Cherry knew what they were thinking.

“Shh, I’m not finished. Of course, that’s not all,” she said with a knowing look, finally revealing the most important piece of information.

“The nurse just messaged me. Not long after I left, Lionel was sitting on his bed with a grim look on his face, lost in thought.”

“Then, as if he’d made some momentous decision, he asked her for a half-day leave from the hospital.”

At this, Cherry couldn't help but raise her eyebrows again, looking at them and lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Now, what could Lionel possibly be doing that would require such a serious expression and an urgent leave of absence?”

For a moment, the living room fell into a dead silence as the three of them looked at each other. Then, in near unison, they all drew a sharp breath.

“That’s right, it’s exactly what you’re thinking!” Cherry declared, seeing the understanding dawn on their faces. She gave herself a little round of applause.

“I really impress myself sometimes. How do I come up with such brilliant ideas?”

If it hadn't been for her flash of genius, they probably wouldn't have gotten this information.

“Looks like the guy is actually going to confront Quennel. Hannah, what’s our next move?”

They had assumed Lionel wouldn't do it, or at least that he’d wait a few days before approaching Quennel.

But they never expected him to be so impatient. Cherry had barely left before he was already asking for leave to go see him.

And here they were, thinking Lionel had finally grown a brain and would be harder to deal with.

Turns out, he was just as predictable as ever. Not nearly as clever as they'd imagined—at the end of the day, still a complete fool.

Bullying someone was truly fascinating, and dangerously addictive. No wonder Sandra, with nothing better to do, had enjoyed tormenting her and getting under her skin.

-

Lionel called Quennel and, upon learning he was home, drove over to his place.

As he entered the living room, he found Quennel lounging on the sofa, looking completely at ease, one leg crossed over the other, a cup of coffee in hand. Only when he heard Lionel enter did he slowly raise his eyes and scan him from head to toe.

“Couldn't this have been a phone call? I have an international video conference soon, I don’t have time to waste with you.”

He set down his coffee, his words laced with a clear thread of disgust.