The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 1172

Danielle looked up at him, her heart reeling with a complex wave of emotions. It had been so, so long since she had seen him this openly protective. In her memory, this version of him felt like a distant dream.

He had changed, she thought. After so many misunderstandings, neither of them was holding back as much. His emotions and attitude were now strikingly clear.

“Alexander—”

He turned his gaze to her. “Are you all right?”

Danielle shook her head. “I’m fine.”

Seeing that she was unharmed, Alexander turned to his men. “Take them away and hand them over to the police. Also, run a background check. I don’t want to see their faces in this city again.”

“Yes, Mr. Davidson.”

The bodyguards immediately seized the men, dragging them out despite their struggles and pleas for mercy. As their shouts faded into the distance, silence returned to the bar.

A bodyguard supporting Kirsten came over and reported in a low voice, “Mr. Davidson, Ms. Delaney is just drunk and has some minor scrapes from the fall. There are no serious injuries. Should we still take her to the hospital?”

Alexander glanced at the unconscious Kirsten and mused for a moment. “No, take them to Ms. Crawford’s place first and have a family doctor look at her. Also, call Gian and let him know Kirsten is with Danielle so he doesn’t worry.”

“I’m not drunk.” Danielle shook her head, her eyes surprisingly lucid. “My mind is perfectly clear.” She stared at him, a storm of complex feelings swirling in her eyes. “So much has happened between us. I believe we both know how we feel about each other. We just don’t know what the other’s boundaries and true thoughts are.”

Two people with a wall between them are like figures on opposite sides of a transparent barrier—they can see each other, but getting close again is incredibly difficult. And yet, their hearts had been slowly drawing nearer without them even realizing it.

“Some things… they’re like a magnetic field,” Danielle said, her voice softening. “You can’t explain it, but it keeps pulling us together.”

Alexander looked down at her. In the dim light, her long lashes were dewy and her cheeks flushed, making her look especially vulnerable. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Danielle,” he said, his voice low and husky, “let’s talk when you’re sober, okay?”