A shiver of pure terror ran down Sandra''s spine. She scrambled backward on the pavement, trying to put distance between them.


    "Get up." Quennel''s voice was devoid of warmth, his eyes carrying an order that could not be refused.


    Sandra looked up, her own eyes wide and bloodshot, her face ashen. She wanted to run.


    The driver, anticipating her move, stood ready.


    "Ms. Woods, I suggest you stand up. You don''t want to see what happens when the young master gets angry," he advised.


    Sandra''s breathing grew ragged. Swallowing hard, she slowly pushed herself to her feet.


    The moment she was steady, a powerful hand shot out and mped around her neck, yanking her forward. She stumbled, her hands flying up to w at his grip, but his strength was immense. Her face flushed red as she beat helplessly against his arm.


    "Let me find out you''veid a hand on Hannah again," Quennel''s voice was a low, menacing whisper, "and the person in that video will be you. Do you understand?"


    He had been aware of her petty schemes for some time but had chosen not to interfere. This time, however, she had gone too far, tarnishing Hannah''s reputation.


    Sandra''s body trembled violently, her blood running cold. The tiny vessels in her face felt ready to burst as she stared at him, gasping for air.


    "Answer me!"


    "I... I understand. Please... let me go... I''m begging you." Quennel released her, shoving her away like a piece of trash.


    Sandra staggered back, leaning against her car as she gasped for breath, her hand rubbing her bruised neck. After a moment, she gritted her teeth and looked at him, her eyes filled with venom. " to


    "Quennel, do you really think Hannah will ever notice all you''ve done for her? Her heart belongs to Lionel, and it always will! Even after he''s betrayed her, she''ll still choose him!"


    The driver sucked in a sharp breath, casting a nervous nce at Quennel. The temperature around them seemed to drop several degrees.


    Seeing the flicker of pain in Quennel''s eyes, Sandra felt a surge of cruel satisfaction. "I''m just speaking the truth," she taunted. "Why so angry, Mr. Quennel Rosenberg?"


    "Ms. Woods, you should stop talking now," the driver warned under his breath. The woman was truly reckless.


    Sandra shot him a re. The more he told her not to speak, the more she wanted to.


    She straightened up and swayed toward Quennel, a picture of seductive defiance. She ced a delicate hand on his shoulder, tracing a line down to his chest.


    "I just want them to divorce sooner. It''s for my sake... and for yours."


    Quennel''s hand shot out and seized her wrist, his brow furrowed in disgust.


    "If you hurt me again, Quennel, I''ll tell Hannah everything. I still have the evidence


    from back then. If she finds out what her revered Quennel really did..."


    She trailed off, watching as he released her hand. A triumphant smirk spread across her face.


    "Don''t let there be a next time," he warned.


    Sandra rubbed her wrist and huffed, not dignifying him with a response.


    As the Maybach drove away, she finally let out a long, shaky breath and got back into her car. From the


    reariew my for, She:could see the


    Rosenberg mansion, a beacon of light and luxury in the distance.