The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 1225

In the shelter of the ice cliff, the cold seeped relentlessly into her bones. Danielle held Alexander’s cooling body, clinging to Rebecca’s words. Her fingertips were still sticky with his blood. Forcing her hands into fists, she blinked back her tears. This was not the time to fall apart. In this world, she was the only one who could save him.

Following Rebecca’s instructions, she readjusted her grip, applying steady pressure. The hemostatic agent slowly soaked into the gauze, and the bleeding finally began to subside. But Alexander’s eyes remained closed. His face was a ghastly white, as if covered by a thin layer of frost, and there was still no discernible breath. Her fingers trembled as she checked his nose again and again, each touch a fresh slice to her heart.

“Sammie… he’s still out there, fighting them. I don’t know what happened to him,” Danielle said, her voice thick and nasal. On the other end of the line, Rebecca, who had been calmly guiding her through first aid, suddenly went rigid. Her voice shot up, sharp and strained. “Sammie? He’s in Antarctica too?” “Yes,” Danielle said, a flicker of confusion in her mind. “Didn’t you know? He appeared out of nowhere to cover our escape. It’s the only reason I got Alexander this far.”

A long, heavy silence stretched from Rebecca’s end, punctuated only by the sound of her ragged breathing through the phone. Danielle could picture her perfectly—the color drained from her face. All Danielle knew was that Rebecca and Sammie had a long, tangled history. She’d heard recently that he was getting engaged, planning to leave Rebecca’s life for good. She never would have imagined he would secretly follow them to this frozen wasteland.

“Send me your location,” Rebecca said, her voice tight. “I’m booking a flight right now. I’m coming.” With a shaky hand, Danielle opened her map and sent her coordinates. The moment she hung up, she finally broke. Burying her face in the cold crook of Alexander’s neck, she let out a muffled sob that was swallowed by the wind.

She couldn’t move him. In this vast, empty ice field, there was nowhere to go, no warmth to be found. The biting cold and a sense of profound powerlessness made every passing minute feel like an eternity. She looked at his pale face, at the drying streaks of blood, and her heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vise, the pain making it hard to breathe. She was out of ideas. All she could do was hold him.

With a slight lift of his hand, several bodyguards in black emerged from the snow, moving with swift, disciplined precision. They walked straight to Alexander and, ignoring Danielle’s protests, lifted him from the ground. “No! Let him go!” Danielle threw herself at them, but two of the guards grabbed her by the shoulders, holding her fast. She watched in horror as they slung Alexander over a shoulder like a lifeless object, his head lolling limply. The tears she had been holding back finally burst forth. “Harold! If you dare touch him, I will never forgive you!”

Harold didn’t even glance back at her. He turned and walked toward a helicopter parked a short distance away. His cold voice drifted back on the wind. “Take her.” A hand seized Danielle’s arm. She struggled, but their strength was overwhelming. She was dragged by force, stumbling in the snow behind them.