The beginning of forever

10 - Divorce

"So if I can't have the company, you won't!" he shouted. In that moment of uncertainty, he made a rash decision.

A deafening gunshot resounded through my office as I watched Heng attempt to escape.

The gunshot shattered the air, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. Time seemed to slow as Heng's desperate escape attempt met an abrupt and violent end. The room filled with the acrid scent of gunpowder, and a cloud of tension lingered like an ominous fog.

Heng was swiftly tackled to the ground by the security personnel, his attempts at resistance subdued in an instant. The authoritative voices of the head of security cut through the aftermath, "Secure him and call for medical assistance, now." The urgency in the command spurred the team into immediate action, a well-coordinated response to the unforeseen crisis.

________

Becky's POV

Breaking news flashed across social media: "Head of Chankimha Group Shot Amidst Confrontation with Alleged Embezzlement Conspiracy Perpetrator." The headline seized my attention in this early morning as I scrolled through my social media feed.

"Freen!" I exclaimed, the name escaping my lips into the air. My heart suddenly pounded with worry for my wife, each beat a resonating drum of anxiety.

With shaking hands, I grabbed my phone, dialing her number with a mixture of hope and dread. The ringtone seemed to mock me, each unanswered ring a painful reminder of the unknown.

"Don't you dare die, Freen!" I muttered to myself, the words a desperate plea.

The silence on the other end was deafening, and a chilling realization set in. Something was horribly wrong. I sprang into action, grabbing my belongings with a frantic urgency that matched the turmoil within. As I called for my driver, each passing moment felt like an eternity, the world around me dissolving into a blur of worry and fear.

Attempting to gather more information from the article, I discovered the hospital where the victim was taken. Instructing the driver to head there, I continued to call my wife, my pleas growing more desperate with each attempt.

"God, please, I just got her back. Don't take my wife," I pleaded to the heavens, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on me like a suffocating darkness.

The journey to the hospital felt interminable, the city lights blurring into a disorienting haze as I clutched my phone like a lifeline. Each unanswered call heightened my sense of helplessness, and the world outside the car seemed to move in slow motion.

As we pulled up to the hospital, my heart raced with a mix of fear and anticipation. The emergency room entrance loomed before me like a portal to an unknown fate. I rushed inside, scanning the faces of the medical staff for any sign of information.

"Excuse me, please. I'm looking for information about a patient brought in recently. Chankimha, the head of the Chankimha Industries," I stammered, my voice a shaky plea.

The nurse, seemingly accustomed to such frantic inquiries, responded, "I'm sorry, Ma'am. I can't provide information without proper authorization."

Desperation gnawed at me. I fumbled for words, attempting to convey the urgency of the situation. "Please, the patient, she's my wife. I need to know if she's okay."

The nurse paused, scrutinizing me for a moment. "Wife? I think you're mistaken, Ma'am."

"What mistake? Here, look, my ID. I am Mrs. Chankimha; the patient is my wife," I said, showing my identification.

"Ma'am, the patient is a male. So she is not your wife," she declared, adding a layer of confusion to my already chaotic emotions.

"Huh? What do you mean?" I asked, my mind racing.