The Sleeper's Wrath and His Wife's Strike novel Chapter 43

The moment he appeared, the air in the dining room froze. Shock registered on every face around the table—no one was exempt. You could hear a pin drop; even the sound of breathing was suddenly loud and distinct.

Lester’s expression darkened. His large hands curled into fists, and a sharp glint flashed in his narrow eyes. He actually woke up!

“Yves!” No one was more overwhelmed than old Mr. Quigley. He pushed to his feet and hurried over, reaching out with trembling hands to touch Yves' face, feeling the unmistakable warmth of living skin. This wasn’t a dream.

Tears of joy welled in Mr. Quigley’s eyes. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he choked up, voice turning hoarse. “Thank God you’re awake.”

Yves looked up at him. The old man seemed far more aged than a few months ago—more white hair, more lines etched deep across his face, his whole demeanor worn and weary.

After a long pause, Yves finally spoke. “Sorry I made you worry.”

Mr. Quigley blinked back tears, shaking his head with a shaky smile.

“We’re cleaning house tonight. What do you think?” Yves asked quietly.

“Absolutely. I’m with you, no matter what.”

“Good.”

Yves' sharp gaze swept across everyone gathered at the table. Wherever his eyes landed, the color drained from their faces, fear clouding their expressions.

Althea was especially pale, cold sweat beading on her forehead. She gripped her hands so tight her knuckles whitened, palms slick with nervous perspiration.

“Yves, I’m so glad you woke up. While you were unconscious, Mr. Quigley worried about you every day,” Bertha chimed in smoothly, ever the diplomat. “No wonder Lindsay insisted everyone come home tonight. Now that you’re back, I’m sure the Quigley Group will thrive more than ever.”

Her words were a clear show of support—and blatant flattery.

Lester shot Bertha a venomous look, his eyes narrowing. Wasn’t she just saying Yves could do what he couldn’t?

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