Evelyn, her face pale and her forehead glistening with cold sweat, looked up. Seeing his tall, commanding figure standing over her, her tense nerves finally snapped, and a wave of relief washed over her even as the burning pain in her arm flared up once more.
"Evie... are you alright? Talk to me!" Michael's voice shook visibly as he reached down to pull her into his arms.
Evelyn shook her head softly, allowing him to lift her up gently. "My arm..."
She slowly raised her left sleeve, revealing a bloody streak where the bullet had grazed her skin. Fortunately, the wound was superficial and her arm movement was not impaired.
Michael stared at the red blood staining her skin, his face instantly turning deathly pale, followed by a storm of dark, murderous fury. Someone dared to shoot at his pregnant wife right outside his own Company!
He glanced at the driver in the front seat, his voice laced with venom: "Can the car move?"
