The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 1470

"Sammie," Claire stopped a few steps behind him. "It's so late. Aren't you going home? I brought some soup, it's keeping warm in the car."

Sammie didn't turn around. His tone was entirely flat. "Do you need something?"

Just those few words—so polite, yet so alienating—shredded the last illusion of their engagement.

Claire's fingers tightened, wrinkling the fabric of the coat, though she maintained her poised smile. "No, nothing. I just noticed you hadn't come home yet and got a little worried. It's windy out, so I brought you a coat."

She stepped forward, attempting to drape the coat over his shoulders.

Sammie subtly shifted his stance, smoothly evading her touch.

"I don't need it."

His voice remained frigid, devoid of a single ounce of warmth.

Claire's hands hovered awkwardly in the air. The sting of rejection amplified her insecurities to a deafening roar.

Forcing a stiff smile, she pulled her hands back and whispered, "Right... well, get some rest soon. Don't overwork yourself. I'll head back."

The man didn't respond. He didn't even spare her a glance.

Claire stood there for a few agonizing seconds before letting out a soft sigh. Turning around, she walked out of the office.

The door clicked shut, plunging the room back into a deathly silence.

Sammie slowly closed his eyes, his thin lips pressed into a harsh line.

Claire.

Fiancée.

What an absolute joke of a title.

This engagement was nothing more than a smokescreen—a shield to fend off other women and a tool to keep Rebecca securely tethered to his side.

He had never loved Claire. Not even a fraction of an inch.

His heart had been completely claimed years ago by a bright-eyed girl with a radiant smile.

But his love was too obsessive, too unhinged, too destructive.

He caged her, clipped her wings, crushed her dreams. He refused to let her leave, refused to let anyone else near her, but he also refused to give her a title or tell her he loved her.

It was where Rebecca lived.

The girl he loved to the bone, yet tortured just as deeply.

Rebecca dragged her exhausted body back to her apartment.

This was the only place she could momentarily escape the suffocating grip Sammie held over her, the only place she could breathe.

She was twenty-four, at an age meant for boundless ambition and chasing dreams.

Her lifelong dream was to be a doctor.

Sammie was her bodyguard. He claimed he'd lay down his life for her.

Yet he never once told her he loved her.

All he did was control her.