Her Mysterious Mogul Hubby (Charlotte and Zachary)

The cold wind howled as the snow fell incessantly.

Clad in thin clothes, Francesca marched forward, barefoot.

All she wanted to do was to leave this place as if it was the lair of the beast, and she would be eaten alive if she stayed. Anthony followed behind, anxiously making calls to have somebody pick them up.

We may lose our lives if we march in this icy land with the cold wind billowing for much longer.

“Ms. Felch!” Sean hurried after them in a panic and hastened to explain, “Mr. Lindberg was forced to do it! The present situation

is—

Francesca could not comprehend. “Forced to do it? So many people have died because of him. Instead of avenging them, he has so easily reconciled with the president. Was he being forced into it?”

“Uh”

“| couldn't blame him for the things that had happened in his absence back then, but now that he's back, his priority was not to rescue Mr. Lincoln but to reconcile with the president instead. Even though the president had brutally killed Mr. Lincoln before my eyes, he still chose to reconcile.”

Francesca became incensed the more she spoke. “In his eyes, his prestige is more important than anything, including all of our lives.”This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

“It's not like this, Ms. Felch—”

“| wanted to kill the president and avenge Mr. Lincoln last night. Why did he stop me?” Francesca yelled in a rage. “Is it because he would have no one to reconcile with if | killed that b*stard?”

“No, Ms. Felch,” Sean asserted at once. “You could not have killed the president in that situation because there were guns and infrared lasers all pointed at you. If you were to fire, you would have been the first one to fall. Mr. Lindberg only did that to protect you.”

Francesca was livid. “I don't need his protection. Ms. Layla and Mr. Lincoln are dead. What good am | alive for? | only live to avenge them!”

“But”

Francesca had had enough. “Not another word. Tell him that he and | are done from now on. It's best that he never shows his face again, or | may not be able to stop myself from killing him.”

“Ms. Felch...”

Sean was about to say something, but Francesca had already turned around and left.

Her silhouette looked desolate against the wintry scene, yet determined.

Sean sighed. Being familiar with Francesca's temper, he knew nothing he said would make a difference if she chose not to listen.

Mr. Lindberg did not explain himself or ask her to stay. He must be giving her time to cool down. She's so angry right now that she may not listen to a word.

Upon his return to the villa, Sean ordered the men who had served alongside Sloan to give Francesca a ride and had Norah bring her some clothes.

After making the arrangements, he went to the study room to speak with Danrique.

The study room remained in the darkness as the lights had not been turned on.

Danrique sat alone on the couch and drank quietly.

It was gloomy within. He did not often drink and only did when he was in a bad mood.

Sean began gingerly, “Ms. Felch is gone, Mr. Lindberg. | told Connor and Mdm. Norah to send her off.” Danrique grunted without saying a word.

“She's very angry now and may not listen to reason. Give her a few days, and she might feel better then,” Sean said gently. “What say we pick her up after a couple of days?”

“I'm afraid it would be more than a few days, knowing her temper,” Danrique sighed helplessly. “I would have been angry too if | were in her shoes.”

Danrique understood how Francesca felt. It would be impossible not to hold a grudge after watching somebody close to her die. Not only had he not avenged them for her, but he had also allied himself with the enemy.

How would she not hate me? Even | hate myself. Having never bowed to anything, he found himself finally submitting to reality.

He hated this version of himself.