While My Husband Cheated I Married His Powerful Brother novel Chapter 140

Chapter 140: Chapter 140 The Man in the Rain

The forest was pitch black.

​Veyra had been trekking up the mountain path for hours, her legs burning from the constant climb. The trail was narrow, the ancient pine trees grew thick on both sides, and the night air was bitterly cold and damp.

​Her original plan had been to reach the high cliffs well before midnight. That was when the rare Heart Vine would finally bloom, its blood-red leaves glowing faintly under the moonlight so she could harvest what she needed for her grandmother.

​Unfortunately, the mountain weather was unpredictable.

​Without any warning, the sharp wind picked up, howling through the tall trees and causing the temperature to plunge drastically. The clear night sky quickly filled with heavy, dark clouds, blocking out the moon and stars entirely.

​Then the rain began to fall. It started as a light, freezing drizzle, but within minutes, it turned into a heavy, blinding downpour.

​Veyra pulled her rain hood up tight around her face and clicked on her heavy flashlight. The strong beam of light cut through the thick sheet of falling rain and darkness.

​She pressed on, refusing to turn back.

​The trail became increasingly steep and treacherous. The jagged rocks grew slick with water, and her heavy climbing boots kept slipping against the deep mud.

​She was about half an hour away from the cliff crevices when she suddenly froze in her tracks.

​Just at the edge of the tall river reeds ahead, there was a dark shape lying motionless in the mud.

​Veyra stood completely still, her chest heaving as she held her breath.

​Slowly, she raised her arm, sweeping the beam of her flashlight over the shape. It was a man. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and lying facedown in the freezing grass.

​Her heart began to hammer violently against her ribs.

​She took a cautious step closer, keeping the light focused directly on his still frame.

​He was wearing a heavy dark jacket that was completely torn to shreds around the shoulders. Dark crimson blood stained the wet fabric, washing away into the muddy grass beneath him. His face was turned away, buried against his forearm.

​Then, as the flashlight beam moved down toward his hip, she saw something that made her blood run completely cold.

​Lying in the wet mud just inches from his limp fingers was a heavy black pistol. Sleek, matte, and dangerous.

​Veyra took an involuntary step backward, her boots squelching in the mud.

​This was no lost hiker or local guide who had slipped on the trail. This was a dangerous man involved in something terrible, a man who carried a deadly firearm into the middle of nowhere.

​Every single instinct in her body yelled at her to run. She should turn around right now, head back down the mountain, and pretend she had never seen a thing tonight.

​She took another step back into the dark shadow of the trees.

​And then, right as she turned her shoulder, she heard a sound over the drumming rain.

​It was a low, painful moan, barely audible over the howl of the wind.

​He was still alive.

​Veyra stood there in the pouring rain, completely frozen.

​Her mind was at war with itself. She had to leave right now. She had her own mission, her grandmother was waiting for her, and getting involved with an armed stranger on a dark mountain was absolute suicide.

​She took a breath to turn away, but the man moaned again. This time it was louder, filled with pure agony.

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