The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 1471

He never intended to give her a proper title.

Rebecca walked up to her front door, pulling out her keys. Just as she was about to slip the key into the lock, a warm, powerful hand clamped down hard on her wrist.

The grip was crushing, almost enough to snap her bones.

Startled, she froze, her instinct screaming at her to fight back.

"Don't move," a man's low, chilling voice ordered from the shadows above her, heavy with undeniable dominance.

The familiar voice and the scent of him instantly turned Rebecca's blood to ice.

It was Sammie.

What the hell was he doing here?

Rebecca jerked her head up, her gaze colliding with his deep, predatory eyes that looked as cold as an abyss.

He loomed right behind her, his tall, imposing frame casting a shadow that practically swallowed her whole.

While one hand kept a vice-like grip on her wrist, his other was slammed flat against the door, effectively caging her and blocking her way inside.

With him barricading the entrance, she didn't even have the luxury of retreating into her own sanctuary.

Rebecca's heart sank, a suffocating wave of exhaustion and disgust washing over her eyes.

She wrenched her arm, desperately trying to shake him off, her voice dropping to a freezing pitch. "Sammie, let me go!"

"No," he replied, dipping his head. His gaze was locked onto her face, refusing to waver for even a second.

His eyes burned with a feverish, borderline psychotic possessiveness, looking as though he wanted to devour her alive.

"Rebecca, we need to talk."

"I have absolutely nothing to say to you," she snapped, turning her head away to avoid looking at the face that brought her so much agony. "Move. I want to go inside."

"Inside?" Sammie let out a low, dark chuckle that dripped with mockery. "Do you really think this place is still a safe haven for you?"

His fingers tightened, sending a sharp throb of pain shooting up her arm.

"Do you really have to go somewhere so dangerous?"

Rebecca whipped her head back to face him, her eyes red, tears stinging her vision.

But he refused to offer love, refused to give her a proper commitment, refused to grant her an ounce of dignity.

To him, she was nothing but property. An object belonging solely to Sammie.

Why should she take this?

A bitter, desolate laugh escaped her lips, bringing hot tears spilling down her cheeks.

"What exactly do you want from me?"

"You have your fiancée, Claire. You have your engagement. You have your own life."

"Why won't you just let me go?"

"I don't love you. I don't want to be with you. I just want to walk away and chase my own dreams. Is that a crime?"

"What do you want me to do?"

Watching the tears stream down her face, it felt as though an invisible hand was squeezing his heart.

But when he spoke, the words came out with cruel, jagged edges.