My Pretty Sweetheart (Arianna)
Chapter 2382

In an instant, what looked like four or five bullets hit Josiah's chest.

The staff nearby were also injured.

Simultaneously, a group of soldiers in military uniforms jumped out from all directions and returned fire.

Following the assault of immense firepower, Quinn and Lucas were soon shot and fell in a pool of blood. Before I could react, I heard the long, ear-piercing sound of a car horn rushing towards me from afar.

I turned, only to discover a black car that was about to run over me.

However, within the blink of an eye, a person immediately jumped out from behind and threw me forward.

I opened my eyes as my surroundings finally stopped spinning and Hendrix's face came into view.

We were both breathing heavily. The car had already departed by the time I checked.

The only thing left was the commotion at the club.

The gunfight had caused quite a stir. Seeing the military regulate the situation, the public recklessly gathered to surround the entrance of the club.

Hendrix supported me and helped me through the crowd.

The injured were all taken into the club hall. When we entered, Josiah was already dead.

Anne held him in her arms and didn't say a single word, but her eyes were bloodshot. Drops of tears drenched her eyelashes and fell to the ground. Her sadness was a palpable thing to anyone who watched. Anne never saw how Josiah hurt Monique. Hence, to her, the person in her arms was just her father who gave life to her.

Hatred was superficial, but blood ties ran deep.

This man died for her, and yet she didn't even get the chance to call him her father. Perhaps this regret might never fade in her lifetime.

I wanted to console her, but Hendrix stopped me, "Let them be for a while."

There wouldn't be any more chances for them in the future.

That was what I realized, but I thought that Hendrix's intention might be the same as well.

We stayed with Anne in silence until the ambulance arrived and took Josiah's body away.

Having watched Anne leave with the ambulance, I was about to go back to the club to clean up the mess when I got a glimpse of Jordan from the corner of my eye.

He stood behind the crowd, isolated

like a

emanly ghost. His entire being

emanated a cold aura, coupled with a drooping face. He looked like the very definition of aloofness.

Despite the distance between us, I could sense, without a doubt, that he was looking at me.

Had he just arrived? Or had he been there a lot earlier? Maybe he also witnessed how Hendrix had saved me.

Whatever the case, he just stood far away. He wanted me to know that he was aware of everything but had decided not to expose them.

This setting felt similar to a man

who knew that his wife was cheating

on him, but was reluctant to break

the balance of their relationshint

Both parties knew about the unfaithfulness, but they tacitly chose to ignore it.

And that was exactly what he did.

When I returned home, enduring the uneasiness, Jordan was sitting on the sofa, He neither questioned me nor tried to strike up a conversation with me. He was composed as though nothing had happened.

As he didn't mention anything, I continued to play dumb and stayed by his side with peace of mind, waiting for the opportunity to carry out my final ploy.

This ambiguous relationship lasted for about a week. One afternoon, not long after Jordan left, he was suddenly back home again.

Seeing him barging in, I couldn't help but mock him, "What, you can't stand it anymore? Here to do an inspection? About to take back my rights and freedom?"