The Wrong Woman

Suzanne closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She tried to swallow her distress, but it was just too painful to bear.

Unbidden tears welled in her eyes.

The next morning, Suzanne got out of bed, freshened herself up, and walked out of her bedroom.

She was startled when she saw the people sitting on the sofa in the living room–they were important people, whose discussion of important matters was interrupted by her

appearance.

They looked at her curiously.

Nathan stood up and introduced her politely. “Mr. President, this is my wife, Suzanne.”

The president of Norvania, Donald Tacker, was a middle–aged man in his fifties. His eyes held a kind twinkle, which made him look friendly and amiable.

Suzanne was taken aback by Nathan’s easy introduction. Maybe he just didn’t want to hide. anything from the president.

Nervously, she went up to Donald and lowered her head respectfully. “Good morning, Mr. President. Good morning, everyone.”

“Hello, Mrs. Morrison.” Donald held out his hand to her.

Startled, Suzanne took his hand and shook it.

Donald smiled. “I’ve always wondered why Nathan never took a liking to my daughter. Now that I’ve met you, I can see that my daughter really can’t compare to you.”

Nathan looked at Suzanne. His eyes were as cold as ever.

He was well aware that Suzanne was pretty in her own simple way. She had a melancholic aura that softened her demeanor. It made her soft and gentle, as a well–raised lady should

1. be.

Most importantly, her beauty was realistic, with no trace of plastic surgery.

Suzanne laughed awkwardly. “You flatter me, Mr. President. I’m just a normal person. I’ve Content from NôvelDr(a)ma.Org.

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got nothing on your daughter.”

The other men looked at each other while smiling.

Suzanne saw that the coffee table was empty apart from a file. There was no tea or refreshments in sight. She figured that Nathan had probably forgotten about basic hospitality in favor of business, so she offered politely, “Let me get you some tea.

“No need for the trouble, Mrs. Morrison. We don’t need tea,” Donald replied.

Suzanne smiled and nodded in accordance, but she still went into the kitchen to make some

tea.

It didn’t matter whether the guests wanted tea or not; it was common courtesy for the host to offer refreshments.

When Suzanne entered the kitchen, she realized that the partition between the kitchen and the living room was hollowed out, so it wasn’t soundproofed. She could still hear bits and pieces of the discussion in the living room.

She looked around for some mugs for the tea, but she couldn’t find them. Instead, she found an exquisite tea set along with some expensive tea leaves.

Just then, she overheard Donald saying, “Project Foghunt has been going on for three years, but we have yet to find any useful clues. I know you have troops all over the world, so I am here, at my wit’s end. I hope that you can help us.

“It’s very important that we find this person, not only for the sake of weapons development but also for the sake of our country.”

Another man spoke up. “He’s right. Every country is looking for this person. At the moment, they have 50 grams of hydronium. They’re the only person in the world who knows how to handle the component.”

“I know who you’re talking about, Mr. President,” Nathan said. “I’ve been looking for him. for three years.”

Suzanne paused and felt a flash of fear.

Hydronium?

That was a very dangerous chemical component.