The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 1351

"Driver, please, head to the Atwood mansion as fast as you can!" she blurted out, her words tumbling over each other.

The driver grunted in acknowledgment.

Kirsten leaned her head against the cold car window.

She prayed silently that Gian would be okay, that his parents wouldn't make things too difficult for him.

She knew deep down that this whole mess was entirely her fault.

If it wasn't for her, Gian wouldn't have hidden their fake marriage from his parents, wouldn't have been berated, and certainly wouldn't be standing there taking the brunt of their fury right now.

The car sped through the city, finally pulling up to the grand entrance of the Atwood mansion.

Kirsten paid the fare and practically stumbled out of the car, sprinting through the front gates.

As she reached the living room doors, she heard Mr. Atwood's furious roar: "You will give me an explanation today!"

"Either you divorce Kirsten Delaney this instant, or you get out of the Atwood family and never come back!"

Kirsten froze in her tracks, her eyes instantly welling with tears as she took in the scene.

Gian was standing rigidly in the center of the room, his back straight as a board, refusing to bow to the pressure.

He kept his chin high, meeting his parents' blinding rage with nothing but calm indifference.

Mr. Atwood and Gian's mom were seated on the sofa, their faces dark with fury.

Kirsten took a deep breath.

She pushed the heavy doors open and stepped inside, her voice trembling but resolute. "Mr. Atwood, Mrs. Atwood... please don't blame Gian. This was all my doing."

Every pair of eyes in the room instantly snapped toward her.

Gian stood stiffly in the center of the room, his spine perfectly straight.

Hearing her familiar voice, his body jerked. He whipped his head around, his gaze piercing through the heavy tension in the room to land squarely on her.

Kirsten stood in the doorway, her hair windblown and chaotic. Her jacket was half-zipped over a thin sweater, and she hadn't even bothered to change her shoes—she was still wearing the slides she had thrown on in a panic.

In that moment, an invisible fist squeezed Gian's heart, a suffocating wave of despair washing over him.

He never expected her to actually show up.

He instinctively took a step toward her, but his legs felt leaden from the exhausting standoff, causing him to stumble slightly.

He stared at Kirsten, a chaotic swirl of emotions flashing in his eyes—shock, heartache, and a faint, unmistakable flicker of anger.

Why was she here?

To stand in the firing line and take his parents' insults alongside him?

His parents were equally stunned. The furious scowls on their faces froze, rapidly melting into sheer disbelief.

They clearly hadn't anticipated her barging in, and for a moment, they were too shocked to speak.

The color drained from her face, her lips quivering slightly, but she stubbornly refused to look away.

She turned back to Gian, her eyes pleading, silently begging for some support.

She just wanted him to say something. Anything.

But Gian just stared at her.

His gaze was completely hollow, void of any emotion whatsoever.

His lips were pressed into a tight line, his face a stone mask.

When her eyes locked onto his, he even turned his head slightly, avoiding her gaze entirely.

Kirsten's heart sank into her stomach.

Right then, Gian finally spoke.

His voice was quiet, yet it carried an undeniable finality that echoed loudly in the silent room. "I've already signed the divorce papers."

He paused, his eyes shifting back to her face. Those eyes, which had once looked at her with such tenderness, were now chillingly apathetic. "I'm just waiting for you to sign them."

Boom.

It felt as though something shattered inside Kirsten's mind, leaving a deafening ringing in her ears.