The Unwanted Wife's Return (Ex-Husband Wants Me Back) novel Chapter 134

Not Their Daughter 

HANNAH’S POV: 

Pain pulsed across my cheek where Janet had hit me, but rage burned hotter than the sting. 

“You kidnapped me,” I said hoarsely, my voice shaking with anger and fear. “You hit me in that parking lot. You dragged me here and poured freezing water on me like I’m some kind of animal. If you think Elijah won’t find one, you’re completely insane.” 

At the mention of his name, something dark and unhinged flashed in Janet’s eyes. Her grip on my hair tightened. 

“Elijah,” she repeated mockingly, drawing out each syllable. “Always Elijah. Even now. Even tied to a chair in the middle of nowhere, you’re still talking about him.” 

I almost laughed at the irony. She was the one who was obsessed with him. He lived rent-free in her mind, / consuming her every thought. But my cheek hurt too badly for me to actually laugh. 

She finally released my hair and stood up, turning away with a scoff. “You still think he’s coming for you? You actually think he cares about you?” 

“He is coming,” I said with as much certainty as I could muster, even though fear was clawing viciously at my gut. “I’m the one he proposed to. I’m the mother of his children. I’m the woman he loves. And when he finds me…” 

“And when he does,” my father cut in coolly, finally speaking for the first time. His deep voice echoed through the room. “He’ll find your body instead.” 

The words hit me like a physical blow. My breath stuttered, catching in my throat. 

My mother shifted her weight and folded her arms tighter. “We didn’t bring you here for threats, Hannah. We brought you here for answers.” 

I let out a bitter laugh that sounded half-hysterical even to my own ears. “Answers? You almost killed me. You kidnapped me, tied me to a chair, and threatened to murder me. What possible answers do you think could justify any of this?” 

Janet tilted her head, studying me like I was a bug under a microscope. “You really don’t get it, do you? You’ve always been slower than me, duller and less sharp.” 

I struggled against the ropes binding my wrists, panic rising as the full reality of my helplessness set in. The rope burned against my skin. My shoulders ached from being pulled back. My wrists were already going numb. 

“What did I ever do to you?” I demanded, my voice breaking despite my efforts to sound strong. “All my life. The insults. The coldness. The way you always chose Janet over me. The punishments for things I didn’t do. What did I ever do to deserve this treatment?” 

My mother’s lips curled into something between disgust and tired resentment. 

“You existed,” she said flatly. 

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