The President’s Mistake A Tale of Love and Regret

No one had anticipated that Freya, who looked so frail and weak, would possess such incredible strength, managing to push Michael halfway over the side of the ship.

The only reason she couldn't knock him into the water immediately was because Mr. Michael had tortured her so severely. Otherwise, that push would have sent him overboard.

A storm was brewing, making the ship unstable. If Mr. Michael fell into the sea now, it would be a life-or-death situation for him.

Freya was nearly in tears, frustrated by her own weakness. She had used all her strength to push him but still failed to knock him off the ship.

If she had succeeded, at least she and her brother would have had a slim chance of survival.

If Michael fell into the water, his men would be busy trying to save him. Besides, they were all working for Michael. Even if he died, they didn't have any grudge against her and her brother, so they wouldn't kill them.

Freya had timed everything perfectly but had overestimated her own strength.

She had used every bit of energy in that push and was now completely exhausted.

At that moment, the terrified bodyguards rushed to Michael's side, pulling him back from the edge of the ship and hastily helping him onto the deck.

Michael had even dropped his cane into the sea. Now, pulled back on board, his face was pale with rage. He pointed at Freya and shouted, "Throw her overboard! Throw her overboard! I want to see her die in the sea!"

He didn't care about anything anymore. If this woman wanted to die, he would grant her wish.

A burly man grabbed Freya's frail arm and lifted her, dragging her to the edge of the ship.

Freya was almost hanging upside down, about to be thrown overboard, when suddenly a clear gunshot rang out.

A line of blood streaked across Freya's cheek, accompanied by a muffled groan.

Freya felt the world spinning. The tall man holding her suddenly collapsed to the ground.noveldrama

Terrified, she looked at the man lying on the deck, a bullet hole in his forehead, dead from a single shot.

It was the first time she had been so close to a dead person. The strong smell of blood and all the previous torment and chaos overwhelmed her, and she began to vomit.

Amidst her confusion, she faintly heard someone calling her name. Freya quickly supported herself on the ship's rail and stood up, looking toward the two speedboats approaching on the sea. At the front of one of the boats stood a tall

man.

Wearing a black trench coat, the sea breeze lifted its hem, giving him a menacing look.

The black coat made his face appear pale. In just a few days, he seemed to have aged ten years.

Beside him stood a young man in a crimson jacket, with windswept hair and sharp features. Despite his handsome appearance, there was a fierce coldness in his eyes. It was Sawyer.

Their yacht was racing ahead of the others, quickly closing in on the ship's rail.

Freya could clearly see Nathaniel's stern expression. He held a gun upside down, effortlessly controlling its powerful recoil as he shot the bodyguard beside her dead.

Sawyer, standing next to Nathaniel with a revolver in hand, seemed stunned by Nathaniel's shooting skills. He turned away, angrily shouting something at Nathaniel, then looked at Freya and yelled, "Freya! Are you alright?"

"I..." Freya started to speak but was cut off by Michael's hysterical screams from behind.

"Freya, tell them to back off!"

Michael, pale from the ordeal Freya had put him through, held a gun to Mason's head and slowly walked over.

The strong wind on the deck made everyone unsteady, and Freya's heart was pounding with anxiety.

She fixed her gaze on Michael, took a deep breath, and said, "Let my brother go. If you need to take someone, take me."

"You know I mean much more to Nathaniel than my brother does. After all, he despises the Gomez family."

Michael's eyes flickered.

Mason had regained a bit of strength after drinking some water. His intense fear and pain made him frantically kick and struggle against the bodyguard holding him.

Michael realized that kidnapping a child was much riskier than kidnapping an adult. Children didn't understand how to cooperate and were more likely to cause problems.

Moreover, this kid had already tried to escape once. Michael was starting to lose trust in him.

But Freya had successfully enraged him.

He hadn't expected her to actually bring Nathaniel and Sawyer to this part of the sea. He still couldn't understand how Freya had managed to do it.

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With Nathaniel's men continuously arriving in speedboats and completely surrounding his yacht, cutting off all his escape routes, Michael realized that using Freya as a hostage was his only chance to escape the area.

Michael was furious that Freya had managed to turn the situation so dire.

Despite knowing Freya was right, he was done listening to her.

"Throw that kid overboard!" Michael ordered.

Immediately, Mason was lifted by a burly man and thrown into the sea from the edge of the ship.

"Mason!!" Freya screamed, running toward the spot where Mason had fallen, her eyes filled with desperation.

Before she could get far, Michael's men grabbed her, and Michael shoved her roughly against the rail.

"What's happening? Damn it!" Sawyer, seeing Mason thrown overboard, stripped off his jacket and jumped into the sea.

Sawyer, a skilled swimmer, headed toward the spot where Mason had fallen, despite the frantic shouts from the bodyguards around him.

He had promised Freya that he would help find her brother, and his earlier lapse had led to this crisis.

This was his fault, and he swam as fast as he could, but Mason, now weakened and flailing on the water's surface, was close to drowning.

Michael instructed one of his bodyguards to shoot at Sawyer, wanting Freya to watch her brother die as punishment. However, as the bodyguard raised his gun, Nathaniel shot him down.

Nathaniel's gun, which could also be used as a sniper rifle, required exceptional skill. Nathaniel's

previous shot had already shocked everyone, and his current display of marksmanship made everyone gasp in awe.

With another precise headshot, Michael, abandoning his wheelchair, grabbed

Freya by the neck and took cover behind his bodyguards.

He glared at the man in the distance, feeling a growing sense of dread.