The Divorced Heiress’s Revenge

As night fell, the wind roared with fury. The black sky loomed oppressively over the tumultuous sea.

On the shores of Rose Island, the waves crashed violently. Bella scrambled onto the helicopter parked on the sand, still wearing the red dress from earlier.

She had regained some of her strength, but she was still in a weakened state. She knew she could not hesitate any longer.

That night, Christopher had not administered more anesthetic. It was her only chance to escape. It had been years since she last piloted a helicopter. Even with only vague memories of how to operate one, she had to try.

Bella climbed into the cockpit, breathing heavily. She performed the necessary steps: fueling, igniting the engine, and engaging the propellers.

"Bella, you can do this. Stay steady... You can make it!" She gritted her teeth, her knuckles white as she gripped the control stick.

"Bella!"

Christopher, pale and frantic, ran toward her.

Bella stared at him coldly, her eyes filled with a bone-deep hatred.

"Christopher... Farewell!"

the helicopter began to lift off, three gunshots rang out from behind

the sea and the noise of the helicopter drowned out the sound

widened in terror

fixated

gunfire from her time on the Kridor battlefield surged back into her mind. Her heart raced and her body trembled, but driven by a

Bang! Bang! Bang!

more gunshots fired in quick succession, methodically

strike her. Instead, they were aimed at the helicopter's fuselage. Alarms and error messages blinked urgently on

in frustration, pounding on

a stop, and everything fell silent. Only the roar

at

it from taking off, but a stray bullet could have

man yanked open the helicopter door, his stern face