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.

eyes fixed on the grand iron gate leading to

pierced the darkness as a luxury car entered the villa. Mila immediately dashed into

he could close the door, a

voice

was nearing four in the morning,

Mila rushed into his embrace, her arms circled his neck, and hugged him with

his arms around

Mila's feet left the ground. Her entire body was enveloped in

with tears, her

a word, Nathan felt the soft warmth of her body, the depth of her care evident in her eyes. The intensity of her concern allowed

moment with a deep and passionate

toward the garage, discreetly

by Nathan's intense embrace. Her

of such intimacy, Nathan appeared to lose

felt as though she was breathless, fearing Nathan might consume