Mistaking a Magnate for a Male Escort

Chapter 2312 We Will Meet Again

The president knew very well that his and Danrique’s feud would only incur a hefty loss for both sides if it were to continue much longer.

Despite Danrique’s dissatisfaction, he would take it lying low for the sake of the bigger picture. What goes around comes around, after all. Having once made a threat to me, it is only fitting that Danrique received one in return. Besides, I owe him a proper thank you for releasing my wife at such an opportune moment and using Lincoln to kill her. It was a great help to me.

The smile on his face widened at the sight of Francesca’s anguish. Danrique is going to suffer soon and will have his hands too full to deal with me.

The president maintained that it was more important to stabilize the situation first, so he could find other ways to deal with Danrique later.

After all, Danrique suffered a massive loss due to the incident. Even if I cannot subdue him now, there will be another opportunity. “Mr. Lindberg is here, Mr. President,” his subordinate whispered into his ear.

The president turned around and saw two vehicles arriving with frantic haste. As soon as the cars ground to a halt, Danrique emerged and dashed toward Francesca, who was kneeling beside Lincoln's body, her body heaving with sobs.

Anthony was also distressed.

Danrique went forward to help Francesca up, who came to life when the desolation in her eyes was suddenly replaced by vengeance. She snatched the gun from Danrique’s hip and pointed it at the president. “Go to h*Il!"

Though it was the first lady who had caused Layla's death, and everything looked as if she had orchestrated it, Francesca knew that the president was the mastermind.

That includes having me pick up Mr. Lincoln tonight and for me to see him shot dead with my own eyes. It has all been a ploy against Danrique.

“No, Ms. Felch!” Sean hastened forward to stop her.

At the same time, dozens of guns aimed at Francesca’s head, including lasers from sniper rifles in the shadows.

They were at the backdoor of the presidential palace. Aside from the soldiers standing guard, several hidden snipers armed with rifles lay in wait and oversaw the president's safety at all times. Francesca did not care. She uncocked the gun.

Danrique grabbed the barrel and whispered, “Calm yourself!”

“Let go!” Consumed by rage, all Francesca wanted to do at that moment was to shoot the president, and she did not care if it cost her her life.

“Francesca!” Danrique implored through gritted teeth. “Now's not the time to be stubborn.”

“I'm telling you to let go,” Francesca yelled, “or I'll shoot you too!”

Danrique did not speak. Instead, he only stared at her with a frown.

Their eyes met. Francesca’s were ablaze with a vengeance, whereas Danrique’s was filled with guilt and a mix of complicated emotions.

After our time apart, I can't believe we're reunited under such circumstances.

The president said sadly, “Oh, Danrique. There has been a serious misunderstanding on Francesca's part. You should tell her we have reconciled.”

His pretense was nothing short of nauseating.

Not just Danrique but even Sean wanted nothing more than to choke the life out of him.

However, all of them knew now was not the time.

“Reconciled?” Francesca gazed at Danrique in disbelief.

Danrique averted his gaze. He grabbed her hand and snatched the gun away, quick as lightning. “Danrique!” Francesca shrieked, demented, but he rapped her sharply on a spot at the back of her neck. Her vision went dark, and she fell limply into his arms.

Anthony rushed forward in a rage. “What are you doing? Let go of her!”

Danrique glanced at him with such a cold look that the latter became so frightened that he froze in his tracks.

Danrique lifted Francesca in his arms, then turned to address the president. “We'll meet again, Mr. President.”

We still have much time ahead. Just wait and see. This is war, and it's only just begun.