Danrique fell asleep groggily on the couch after taking his medicine.
Worried that he might catch a cold, Norah covered him with a nket before turning off the lights and retreating quietly.
Though she did not know much, she understood that that night was critical. Mr. Lindberg and the president hade to an
agreement: If Sean could bring Mr. Lincoln back, Ms. Felch would be able toe home, and the matter would be resolved.
Norah watched the clock on the wall and counted the seconds in her heart.
One minute passed. Ten minutes. Half an hour. Sean would be at the presidential pce by now and would be picking them up
soon.
Danrique suddenly jerked awake while she was lost in her reverie and grabbed his phone to make a call.
“Yes, Mr. Lindberg?”
“Have you picked up Mr. Lincoln?”
“Not yet. He should be arriving at the back door of the presidential pce soon.”
Danrique''s expression shifted drastically. “Did they tell you to collect him at the presidential pce?”
“That''s right.”
“Mr. Lincoln must be in our hands before the president returns,” Danrique urged. “If you catch sight of Francesca, stop her
immediately.”
“Yeg—
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Before Sean couldplete his sentence, a series of gunshots sounded nearby.
Spinning around, he saw an emaciated figure falling at the entrance not far away amidst a storm of bullets. At the same time,
another fell to her knees in the pool of blood.
“No! Mr. Lincoln!” Francesca''s scream pierced the night sky.
As Sean was rooted to the spot, his eyes widened in disbelief. His head rang with the words—It''s over. We''re toote.
Danrique''s order and his execution had beente, and the president seeded in his scheme.
Danrique heard the noise on the other end and, in a rage, sent the coffee table over with a kick and hung up. Summoning his
men, he dashed outside.
“Be careful with your injury, sir!” Norah cried behind him.
Danrique did not appear to hear her. Without even donning his jacket, he leaped into his car.
Fresh blood stained the white snow at the back door of the presidential pce. The president''s expression remained impassive
as the two bodies fell before him.
Though his wife, who had shared his bed for decades, fell at his feet, he did not appear sad in the slightest. He gazed at her
quietly and then at Lincoln, who had been shot by a bullet, and his lips curled in a victorious arc.
Even though it looked disadvantageous to trade his wife''s life for Lincoln''s, the president had, in fact, benefitted a great deal.
As Danrique''s maneuver had already incited hatred in the firstdy for her husband, it was not his wife that the president had
brought back with him but an enemy who constantly wished him dead.
Furthermore, he needed his wife to bear all the charges on his behalf to free himselfpletely, but she may not be inclined to
anymore, given her current hatred for him.
Only by exterminating all evidence can the doubts be silenced.
However, the president would be branded an ingrate if he ordered his wife''s arrest or found pretexts to cause her demise.
With things turning out the way they did, my wife being assassinated by one of Danrique''s men...
Not only would he be absolved of any me, but he would also gain legal grounds to ce all the me on his wife. The
damning evidence would be indefensible.
Everything would then fall into ce.
In addition, Lincoln''s death may prompt a wedge to be driven between Francesca and Danrique. Without her help, Danrique
would lose the support of his powerful backers, and his diminished influence would humble him.
“Mr. President,” reported one of his men quietly, “Sean and his men are here, and Danrique is on his way over.”
The president gave a grim smile. “Good. We''ll bag them all at once.”
“Will Mr. Lindberg refuse to reconcile out of rage?” the man asked uneasily.This is from N?velDrama.Org.
“The pact will not be changed because of a single death,” the president said with a coldugh. “Besides, Danrique has no other
choice.”