Mistaking a Magnate for a Male Escort novel Chapter 2311

Chapter 2311 No Other Choice

Danrique fell asleep groggily on the couch after taking his medicine. Worried that he might catch a cold, Norah covered him with a blanket 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 had come to an agreement: If Sean could bring Mr. Lincoln back, Ms. Felch would be able to come 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 palace 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 palace soon.” Danrique’s expression shifted drastically. “Did they tell you to collect him at the presidential palace?”

“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.” “Yes—”

Bang! Bang! Bang! Before Sean could complete 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 too late.

Danrique’s order and his execution had been late, and the president succeeded 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 palace. The president’s expression remained impassive as the two bodies fell before him.