Chapter 11: She devised a plan(1)
The tall man thudded onto the concrete ground, his body convulsing like a torn sack. After a few twitches, he kicked his feet, closed his eyes, and dark red blood slowly flowed from under his head.
The dog in the yard barked incessantly.
Taking advantage of the chaos, the bald man tried to escape. The police rushed in, subdued him, took the painting, and handcuffed him.
Helena, still clinging to the window frame, stared blankly at Willis, who had fired the shot.
Married to him for three years, she had no idea he would use a gun, let alone shoot so accurately.
In that critical moment, the speed, angle, and precision of the shot were such that any deviation could have been fatal for her.
Willis tossed aside the gun, took a long stride, and walked towards her, lifting her from the windowsill.
Carefully, he dealt with the wound on her neck.
He embraced her tightly, rubbing her pale face with his slightly cool fingertips, asking gently, “Frightened, aren’t you?”
Helena mumbled a faint “yes.”
Just moments ago, she thought she was done for, but unexpectedly, she managed to escape death.
Her heart pounded, ears buzzed, and even with a silencer, the gunshot was loud.
The entire ordeal felt like a scene from a movie, thrilling and heart-pounding.
She was drenched in cold sweat from the scare.
The ancient painting was carefully collected by the police, placed in a protective bag, and then stored in a safe.
Helena mechanically cooperated with the police in recording the details and got into Willis’s car.
Even now, her legs were still weak, and her mind was foggy.
The night was pitch dark, and the country road was narrow.
The driver started the car and headed towards the city.
Helena was still held in Willis’s arms.
He repeatedly caressed her thin back, comforting her, “It’s okay, it’s okay. Don’t be afraid.”
His embrace was warm, and Helena instinctively leaned into it, pressing against him. Her heart felt sour, bitter, and a little sweet.
He still cared for her as a husband.
Feeling her response, Willis held her even tighter. His gentle voice reached her ears, tinged with a bit of reproach, “Why didn’t you call me when this happened? Your mother is oblivious. She only noticed something was wrong yesterday and called me.”
His throat tightened, burying his jaw in her hair, fingers gripping her clothes. He murmured, “What if something happened to you?”
Helena was slightly stunned.
At this moment, she felt that he cared about her more than she had imagined.
She lifted her arm, hugging his waist, burying her face in the nape of his neck.
He exuded a comforting scent, and that fragrance made her feel secure.
A warm flow surged in her heart, and her eyes gradually reddened.
After a while, Willis’s phone rang.
He glanced at it and hung up.
Helena’s intuition told her it was Susan calling.
Not long after, the assistant sitting in the front passenger seat received a call on his phone.
After answering, he spoke a few words and handed the phone to Willis, saying, “Mr. Santana, it’s Helena’s call.”
Willis took the phone and asked, “Is there something?”
Susan’s delicate voice sounded anxious, “Willis, did you find Helena?”
“Found her.”
“She must be scared, right? Accompany her well. Don’t come to the hospital these days to be with me.”
Willis replied indifferently, “Okay.”
Close by, Helena heard it clearly. The warmth she had just felt dissipated.
She pushed Willis’s arm gently, moved to the seat, and turned to look out of the window. She smiled at her reflection in the car window, a smile as cold as her lips.
The moment of happiness just now was all an illusion.
Yes, it was all her illusion.
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Helena said to Willis, “Take me to my mother’s house, and help me find an excuse with Grandma.”
Willis was silent for a moment, then said, “Okay.”
Back home.
As soon as she entered, Zena embraced Helena, crying, “My girl, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Good, good, as long as you’re fine. I was so careless; I didn’t realize what you meant about the diabetes medication until a day later. Thanks to Willis for taking people to find you. If it weren’t for him, who knows what would have happened to you? You’re my only child. If something happened to you, how could I go on?” The usually fiery woman cried loudly.
Helena reached up to wipe away her tears, soothing her with a soft voice, “Don’t cry, Mom. I’m back safe and sound.”
A week later, at night.