The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 752

Danielle gripped Alexander’s arm, her fingertips tracing the tense lines of muscle beneath his shirt. Beneath the thin fabric, she could feel the sticky warmth seeping through—an iron-tinged heat that made her stomach twist.

She turned to look at him. Alexander’s profile was rigid, his jaw set in a steel-hard line, as if it had been carved by a knife.

“Don’t push yourself,” Danielle murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, as though afraid to shatter the fragile quiet between them. “Let me drive.”

Alexander glanced at her, eyes dark and unreadable.

“I’m fine,” he said, his voice low.

Danielle’s gaze dropped to his wounded right arm.

The dark sleeve of his suit jacket was soaked through with blood, the fabric stained with a spreading, ominous blotch. With every shallow breath he took, the patch seemed to pulse.

Her mind replayed the memory from just moments ago—Alexander throwing himself in front of her, shielding her without a second thought.

A tremor ran through her.

“Why?” The question slipped out, her voice rough with emotion. “Why did you do that, Alexander? You didn’t have to.”

His grip on the steering wheel tightened, knuckles turning white.

“I told you. I’m here to protect you and Niki.” His tone was calm, almost detached, as if none of this touched him. “Whether you hate me or not doesn’t matter.”

Danielle turned away, staring out at the city lights flashing past the window. Neon colors flickered across her face, but all she felt was a heavy, suffocating pressure in her chest.

Yet the image of Alexander stepping between her and danger was still vivid in her mind—his expression so resolute, so real, it left her shaken.

The car eventually came to a stop in front of a secluded house, nestled under a canopy of trees.

Following Alexander’s directions, she found the room upstairs.

It was like a tiny fairy tale—pink walls, plush carpet, and a pile of stuffed animals in the corner, every detail chosen with care.

She tucked Niki into bed, pulling the blanket over her, then knelt there for a long moment, watching her daughter’s peaceful face. Gradually, the panic inside her faded, replaced by a cold wave of fear.

If Alexander hadn’t shielded them… If those men had come for Niki instead—Danielle couldn’t let herself finish the thought; a chill ran down her spine.

And her mother…

Alexander had said, back in the car, that it was all a lie.

Danielle shut her eyes. If he was wrong and it wasn’t a lie—if it ever became real—she didn’t dare imagine what would happen.