The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 309

People who are too skilled at reading others are like mind readers—you might as well be standing naked in front of them.

Harold draped the shawl over her shoulders.

Danielle offered him a quiet thank you.

This little scene played out directly in front of Keegan, who watched without betraying much emotion—just the faintest twitch of his brow.

No wonder Ninesky Technologies had turned down his partnership proposal. Even though he’d presented them with a detailed pitch, full of enthusiasm and sincerity, they’d still refused. Now it made sense—they’d already found their ideal collaborator.

So, it all added up. They’d made a connection with Harold and rejected St. Anne’s proposal; there was the explanation.

“What are you looking at?” Liam sidled over and followed Keegan’s gaze, catching sight of the same tableau.

“No wonder Mr. Chapman is so eager to speak up for her. Men are all the same,” Liam said with a sigh. “Looks like Harold’s fallen under Danielle’s spell too—just another guy in her collection.”

He let out a soft, half-amused sigh.

Who says looks don’t matter in this world? Danielle had managed to break into a social circle that was never meant for her, just by virtue of her face.

She’d even managed to charm Harold.

Truth be told, most of them didn’t know Harold personally. They’d barely worked together, and in their industry, they were more often competitors than partners. Everything they’d heard about Harold was secondhand—just rumors passed along at networking events.

And now, seeing him, he was just like every other man, tripped up by a pretty face. No one was immune.

Liam sauntered over to Alexander.

Alexander was hunched over his phone, attending to work emails.

Liam plopped down beside him. “Caught sight of your ex-wife flirting again. You’ve got to hand it to her—when it comes to reeling in men, Danielle is at the top of her game.”

Alexander didn’t look up, his eyes shadowed and unreadable. He gave no sign of interest, didn’t even bother with a reply.

Liam couldn’t help himself—he kept griping.

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify