The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 1472

"I don't want anything."

"But leaving the country? That's not happening."

"Don't push me, Rebecca."

She stared right back at him.

"Go to hell."

"Get out of my sight right now."

"I never want to see your face again."

"Get out!"

She screamed the final words with every ounce of strength she had left, her throat tearing with a desperate, ragged fury.

His expression instantly turned lethal.

The hand gripping her wrist trembled ever so slightly.

He had never seen her like this.

"Don't force my hand."

"Doctors Without Borders? Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?"

He glared down at her. "Stop acting like a spoiled brat. Grow up."

"As long as I'm breathing, you aren't going anywhere."

With that, he released her arm so violently she stumbled backward, her shoulders slamming against the hard wood of the door.

He gave her one last, terrifyingly complex look—a volatile mix of agony, resentment, love, and sheer madness, all ultimately freezing into predatory hostility.

Then, he turned on his heel. Without a single glance back, he strode into the shadows, his broad silhouette quickly vanishing at the end of the hallway.

A stark red bruise was already blooming on her skin, throbbing with numbness.

But the aching in her chest was a thousand times worse.

What gave him the right?

Why did he get to treat her like this?

Why should she be locked in his cage for the rest of her life?

She wouldn't accept it.

She flat out refused to accept it.

She stood there for a long time, weeping until there were no tears left to shed and her throat felt like sandpaper, before slowly pushing herself upright.

She unlocked her door and slipped into her tiny apartment.

Closing it firmly behind her, she shut out the cold, suffocating presence of the man who had just stood in her hallway.

They moved with military precision, forming a wall to block her path. Their demeanor was perfectly polite, but their tone brooked no argument.

"Miss Rebecca, please come with us."

The color completely drained from her face, a chill sweeping through her veins.

Her first instinct was to run, but they smoothly boxed her in.

"Who are you?"

"Don't make this difficult, Miss Rebecca," the lead enforcer said quietly. "Mr. Sammie sent us. He says you aren't going anywhere."

Sammie.

It was always him.

It felt as though every ounce of energy she had was instantly siphoned out of her.

A crushing wave of despair completely swallowed her whole.

How dare he.

When had he ever dared to be this ruthless with her before?