The Wrong Woman

Chapter 518

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With that, Nathan bolted out of Sudvilla, with Cole following closely behind.

Mila remained rooted in place, her fists clenching slowly as tears clouded her sight.

She knew Nathan all too well. A man of his mettle would help even a stranger, let alone a friend and colleague in need. Yet, she couldn't approve of his actions as well as shaking off the unease gnawing at her.

Phoebe, alerted by the commotion, dashed out of her room. She caught sight of Cole and Nathan hurriedly leaving.

Rushing downstairs, she asked, "Mila, what's happening? Why are they in such a rush?"

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Mila stood motionless, offering no response.

Phoebe approached her. Seeing the tear stains on her face, she grew alarmed and gently held her hand. "Mila, why are you crying? Are you not feeling well?"

Mila closed her eyes, tears trickling down her cheeks. She shook her head, unable to articulate her feelings. It felt as if a heavy weight was pressed upon her chest.

The night sky was shrouded in darkness, without a single star in sight. Two hours had slipped by, and Nathan had yet to return.

Wearing a coat, Mila stepped outside, standing beneath the glow of the streetlamp in the garden path. Her gaze pierced through the darkness, anxiously waiting.

"Why are you out here in the cold?" Phoebe's concerned voice sounded.

Mila turned to look at her. In that instant, Phoebe noticed a red dot on Mila's forehead. Her face drained of color, her voice trembling with nervousness. "Mila, get down!"

Perplexed, Mila frowned. "What?"

"Mila, get down!" Phoebe exclaimed, rushing over and throwing herself at Mila without hesitation.

A muted sound pierced Mila's ears as a suppressed sniper rifle shot rang out.

In a swift motion, Phoebe lunged forward and enveloped Mila in her embrace. Their bodies spun before they tumbled into the garden bushes. Phoebe shielded Mila and her unborn baby with her own body.

Mila, gripped by panic, lay atop Phoebe. Her breaths cin rapid gasps, her heart raced, and her abdomen ached with sharp pains. A sense of dread consumed her.

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Beneath her, Phoebe was drenched in sweat, her face drained of color as she grimaced in agony.

Reaching out, Mila touched Phoebe's arm, her voice trembling with emotion. "Phoebe, are you injured? Where does it hurt?"

Phoebe released her grip to clutch at her shoulder, her breaths ragged as she whispered in anguish, "I'm fine. Mila, stay still, there's a sniper."

"Where's my phone?" Mila frantically searched her pockets, realizing it was inside the house. She briefly searched Phoebe for her phone, but it was nowhere to be found.

"Security!" Mila shouted toward the security booth at Sudvilla's entrance. "Security, there's a sniper! Take cover, call the police, and inform Nathan quickly..."

Hearing Mila's voice, the security guard stationed at the entrance didn't immediately reach for his phone. Instead, he stepped out to investigate who might be playing a prank.

As he emerged from the security booth, he was instantly targeted by a red dot The next moment, a duff gunshot echoed through the air. A loud thud sounded as the security guard collapsed. Mila covered her mouth in shock, paralyzed with fear. Witnessing the innocent guard being sacrificed, she wept in despair, feeling utterly powerless.

In the dim yellow light, Mila watched as Phoebe's complexion paled, her sciousness slipping away. Even if the wound wasn't fatal, the loss of blood would be dangerous if left untreated. Phoebe had taken the bullet to save her. The door was open, about six feet away from their position. A staircase led up to the entrance, flanked by two large columns.

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The Wrong Woman

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