The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 1465

The night was thick and heavy.

Elsewhere.

Rebecca was behind the wheel. Sitting in the driver's seat, her knuckles turned white from how hard she gripped the steering wheel.

Her window was rolled down, but the biting wind did nothing to extinguish the suffocating rage coiling tighter in her chest.

In the rearview mirror, her face remained a portrait of cool, sharp detachment. Her features were striking, devoid of any unnecessary emotion, though a faint trace of bitterness hid deep in her eyes—one she hadn't even noticed herself.

She wasn't supposed to be here right now.

A few days ago, she had finalized all her paperwork.

Her application for Doctors Without Borders was approved, her training completed, her visa stamped, and her itinerary set in stone.

In just a short time, she was supposed to board a flight to a war-torn region, leaving behind the city that had housed her entire youth.

She was a doctor. From her very first day of medical school, that conviction was carved into her bones.

Saving lives, regardless of borders, regardless of allegiance.

It wasn't a spur-of-the-moment decision; it was the path she had dreamed of for years.

Yet, ever since she confirmed her itinerary, someone had been sabotaging her from the shadows.

Her flight was inexplicably canceled once.

The medical center where she booked her physical examination suffered a system glitch, erasing her records.

Even the emergency medical supplies she had a friend arrange from overseas mysteriously vanished at the courier station.

At first, she brushed it off as a string of bad luck.

But when she asked around, every single roadblock traced back to the exact same person—

Sammie.

The man who used to shadow her every move, the man who would literally take a bullet for her on a single word.

The man she believed would stand firmly behind her, even if the rest of the world thought she was out of her mind.

Rebecca closed her eyes, and when they fluttered open, there was nothing left but ice.

She knew exactly where Sammie was.

The city's most exclusive, members-only private club. It was a place that cared about pedigree, not cash, and it was exactly the kind of spot a man of his standing frequented.

Inside would be his childhood friends, his inner circle, the people they had grown up with.

She used to come here all the time, trailing beside Sammie. She had been his shadow, and his light.

Back then, he was her bodyguard, and she was the person he swore to protect with his life.

Ten years.

Rebecca let out a cold, internal scoff.

Ten years. Apparently, it didn't mean a damn thing.

She stood in front of the heavy wooden door, took a deep breath, and shoved it wide open.

The noise inside died in an instant.

Every single pair of eyes snapped toward her.

Through the haze of cigar smoke, she locked onto Sammie sitting at the head of the table.

Years had passed, and he was colder, more imposing, and carried an unapproachable distance about him.