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.

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

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

he

Mila's voice choked with

was nearing four

into his embrace, her arms circled his neck, and hugged

turn, wrapped his arms around her

height difference, Mila's feet left the ground. Her entire

with tears, her gaze filled with

warmth of her body, the depth of her care evident

moment

garage, discreetly leaving space for the

by Nathan's intense embrace. Her hands instinctively cradled his

due to the long absence of such intimacy,

she was breathless, fearing Nathan might consume her with

her voice trembling as she attempted to catch

with each exhale. It was a sensation