The Wrong Woman

Battling her restless anxiety, Mila endured a sleepless night, her heart filled with anticipation.

As the second day dawned, Nathan was still nowhere to be seen.

Hesitant to disturb him with a call, Mila found herself trapped in a torturous cycle of hope and apprehension.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly and each passing second weighed heavily on her. Her gaze fixed unwaveringly on the door, longing for Nathan's return. Yet, he remained absent.

By the late hours of the third day, Mila stumbled upon breaking news while scrolling through her phone. A fierce gun battle had erupted at Memorial Heights, with residents capturing the chaos on video and sharing it online.

The darkness of the night concealed the faces, leaving only the echoing sounds of gunfire.

Driven by overwhelming concern, Mila dialed Nathan's number, only to be greeted by the automated message indicating his phone was switched off.

She tossed her phone aside and sank onto her bed in discouragement. Her heart was heavy with oppressive dread as if caught in a whirlwind of worry.

At three in the morning, Mila was still wide awake.

stood on the balcony in her coat with cold wind brushing against her. Her eyes fixed on the grand iron gate leading

luxury car entered the villa. Mila immediately dashed

he could close the door, a figure rushed toward

Mila's voice

revealed a blend of joy and concern. It was nearing four

arms circled his

in turn, wrapped his arms around

Her entire body was enveloped in

Mila's eyes brimmed with tears,

the soft warmth of her body, the depth of her care evident in her eyes. The intensity of her concern allowed him to deeply feel her

the moment with a deep and

the garage, discreetly leaving space for the

evading, she soon found herself overwhelmed by Nathan's intense embrace. Her hands instinctively cradled his head as they

due to the long absence of such

was breathless, fearing Nathan