The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 1227

After Harold left, Danielle didn’t sleep a wink.

By the next day, the blood on her clothes had dried into dark, crusty patches that stuck to the fabric, carrying a lingering, metallic scent. Her mind was a tangled mess.

She had no idea if the light outside the operating room had been extinguished or if the bullet that grazed Alexander’s heart had ultimately stolen his life.

It was then that the sound of the lock turning broke the dead silence.

Harold pushed the door open, bringing a gust of cold air in with him. He looked down at Danielle, who was huddled in a corner, his tone flat and unreadable. “Have you come to a decision?”

Danielle slowly raised her head. Her eyes were bloodshot, her face as pale as a sheet of paper. She pushed herself up on numb limbs, managing to stand. “This project isn’t mine to give. I don’t have the final say.”

“The core technical data and final authorization are all in Alexander’s hands,” she declared, meeting Harold’s gaze, her voice firm. “He has to be alive to be of any use to you.”

Harold raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise in his eyes, followed by a low chuckle that held no warmth. “You’re clever, I’ll give you that.” He strolled over to the sofa and sat down, his fingertips tapping a dull rhythm on the armrest. “He’s still in surgery. The bullet grazed his heart; he almost didn’t make it.”

He paused. “After fighting him my whole life, I’d almost be disappointed if he went out like this.”

Danielle’s heart plummeted. The boulder of anxiety that had been hanging over her all night refused to fall. She rushed toward him. “As long as you save him, I’ll agree to anything.”

“The data, the public statement—I’ll cooperate. But you have to promise not to harm my daughter, Niki.”

Harold looked up at her. “You’d better not try any tricks.” His voice was deceptively light. “You should understand that Niki’s life is in my hands right now. You need to be crystal clear about your situation. You’re in no position to negotiate with me. You will do as I say.”

With that, he stood, straightened his jacket, and walked out without another glance at Danielle.

Danielle took a shaky breath, a suffocating tightness seizing her chest and heart. In that moment, all she could feel was a bottomless despair, with no path forward in sight. If she could, she would trade her own life for theirs in a heartbeat. But Harold’s plans were a threat to national security, a danger she couldn’t ignore.

-

Elsewhere, on a private airstrip, Harold stood by the boarding stairs of a jet, the cherry-red tip of his cigar glowing in the twilight. He was on his phone.

“Not good,” Harold said dismissively. “And that’s no longer your concern.”

He hung up, flicking the ash from his cigar. The wind scattered it across the cold ground.

-

Meanwhile, at a temporary camp on the edge of the Antarctic ice sheet, the blizzard raged on.

Sammie stood in the vast, empty snowfield, his black winter gear stained with patches of ice, his face so dark it looked like it might drip poison. He and his men had been fighting Harold’s forces for what felt like an eternity. By the time they broke through, Danielle and Alexander were gone. The only thing left behind was a dark, frozen pool of blood in the snow, a sight so jarring it made his heart clench.

“Mr. Sammie, what are your orders?” an underling asked, his head bowed, his voice trembling with fear. Everyone knew that Sammie’s power abroad was immense, with connections on both sides of the law, yet someone had slipped through his fingers in this desolate wasteland.

Sammie’s fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. The frigid wind bit at his face. His lips thinned into a hard line as he bit out words that were as sharp as shards of ice. “Find them. I don’t care if you have to tear this continent apart. Find them!”

He was going to see just what game Harold thought he was playing. If he dared to touch the people under his protection, he’d better be prepared to pay the price.