The President’s Mistake A Tale of Love and Regret novel Chapter 501

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.

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.