Chapter 4Drowning The Woman Who Saved You

By morning, my skin felt like molten copper.

The blood on my face had crusted into a stiff, dark mask, and my head pounded in time with my frantic pulse.

The heavy door creaked open. Everett stepped inside.

Seeing me huddled on the floor, he paused, then his mouth twisted in irritation.

"It was one night in a guest room, Naomi. Who are you putting on this corpse routine for?"

I shook my head weakly, my voice like crushed gravel. "Everett... I'm sick. I have a fever..."

"Enough," he cut me off coldly. "Alyssa has an announcement to make. Don't ruin her morning."

Behind him, Alyssa floated into the room, clad in a custom ivory gown dusted with diamonds. She looked radiant, blooming like a morning rose.

"Everett is hosting a private yacht gala this afternoon to celebrate the pregnancy," she chimed, beaming. "The ocean views are supposed to be magnificent. You'll join us, won't you, Mrs. Conway?"

My eyes drifted to Everett.

He knew. He was the "only" person who knew about my severe aquaphobia. Ever since I was pushed into a freezing lake as a child, stepping onto a pier sent my pulse into arrhythmia and turned my limbs to jelly.

Yet Everett didn't even look at me. His eyes were glued to Alyssa, a tender, doting smile playing on his lips.

When I remained silent, his patience snapped. "She's being generous enough to include you. Where are your manners?"

I looked at him, and a small, cracked laugh escaped my chest until my ribs ached.

"Of course," I whispered. "Thank you, Miss Alyssa."

Everett's jaw relaxed slightly. He tossed a folded garment onto the floor in front of me.

It was a standard black-and-white catering uniform. Cheap polyester, slightly worn at the cuffs.

"Wear this," he said evenly. "I don't want anyone recognizing you as my wife. It would make things awkward for Alyssa."

"Okay," I said.

My sheer compliance seemed to throw him off balance. He hesitated, shifting his weight, his voice stiffening. "Look... down the road, when we have our own child, I'll throw you a party twice as big. I promise."

I offered him another faint smile.

"There won't be a down the road, Everett."

The yacht sliced through the coastal waters under a brilliant midday sun. Champagne flutes clinked on the upper deck as the city's high society swarmed Everett and Alyssa, treating them like royalty.

Down on the main deck, I blended into the hired staff, carrying silver trays with trembling, clammy hands, fighting the terror clawing up my throat. Every roll of the ship on the swell made my chest seize.

Finally, unable to draw a full breath, I stumbled into the lower-deck restroom and locked myself in a stall, sliding down the door to gasp for air.

Through the louvered vents, voices filtered in from the corridor outside.

"Aren't you playing with fire, Everett?" a man's voice asked—one of his long-time business partners. "Parading the mistress while making your wife serve drinks? What if Naomi finally snaps and walks out?"

Everett let out an arrogant, dismissive chuckle.

"She won't. She has no family, no money, no one in this world but me. Where the hell is she going to go?"

A pause. Then the partner spoke again, lower this time. "Are you still hung up on what happened ten years ago? Come on, man. Naomi was the victim."

"Slam."

The sound of a fist crashing against the marble counter shook the partition.

"I'm a fucking man!" Everett snarled, his voice thick with raw, ugly rage. "How am I supposed to forget it? Every time I touch her, all I can see is that dirtbag putting his hands on her! It makes me want to rip my own skin off! She's already ruined, Mark. Why the hell should I have to remain pure for a damaged woman?"

Inside the stall, my hands fell limply into my lap.

The panic in my chest simply... stopped. An eerie, profound stillness washed over me.

If that was truly what he had carried in his heart for ten years, then there was nothing left to mourn.

A sudden commotion on the main deck shattered the quiet.

Moments later, the restroom door was kicked open. Two security guards grabbed me by the shoulders and hauled me out into the blinding sunlight.

The catering staff had been lined up along the mahogany railing. In the center of the crowd stood Alyssa, holding court.

"Someone on the staff has sticky fingers," Alyssa announced sweetly to the gathered elites. "My vintage diamond pendant has gone missing. I hate to make a scene, but..."

She walked directly toward me, her eyes glinting.

Without warning, she reached out and ripped the silver chain from around my neck.

"Give it back!" I lunged forward instinctively, but my hands caught only empty air.

I was disoriented. "That's mine. It's been around my neck for five years—"

Before I could finish, a heavy boot slammed into the back of my knee.

My legs gave out. My knees struck the teak deck with a sickening crack.

Alyssa dangled the simple silver locket between her manicured fingers, scoffing loudly so the crowd could hear. Around us, the city's elite watched with curled lips, whispering about the thieving maid.

My entire body began to shake. I stared at the locket in her hand, my voice dropping into a desperate, ragged plea.

"Miss Alyssa, you're mistaken. That necklace has been mine for years. It's all I have left. Please... give it back. If not for me, then for the karma of the child in your womb."

"Smack."

Alyssa’s backhand sent my head snapping sideways.

"You filthy little thief!" she shrieked. "How dare you put a curse on my baby? How dare you speak about my child with your dirty mouth!"

She raised her hand to strike me again, but a tall silhouette cut through the crowd, stepping between us.

"Everett..."

Tears finally spilled over my lashes as I looked up at him, a desperate plea clawing its way to the surface.

He "knew". He had to know.

That modest silver cylinder didn't hold diamonds. It held the cremated ashes of the baby we had terminated ten years ago. We had sworn on that tiny urn that our firstborn would stay close to our hearts forever.

He would take it back. He had to.

Instead, Everett drew back his leg and kicked me squarely in the chest.

The air exploded from my lungs. I slammed hard against the deck, gasping for breath as spots danced across my vision.

Above me, Everett's gaze was dripping with cold contempt.

"What right do you have to speak of my child with Alyssa?"

I stared at him from the wood planks, my mind short-circuiting into absolute blankness.

"Everett... did you forget? The ashes... that's our..."

"I don't care what pathetic excuse you've cooked up," he cut me off brutally. "We caught you red-handed. Save your lies for the harbor police when we dock."

A broken, ragged laugh tore from my throat.

"God, I was so stupid."

He had a new child now. A "pure" child, born of an untouched woman. Why would he ever care about the ashes of a ghost from our starving years?

The last ember in my chest burned out, leaving only cold, grey cinders.

Everett looked down at me, and his heart gave a sudden, violent thud.

He had seen me angry, he had seen me weep, he had seen me beg. But he had never seen me look at him like this. My eyes were entirely dead, stripped of all humanity. A hollow, yawning abyss.

An icy tendril of dread gripped his spine. Something was slipping through his fingers, something massive and irreversible—

"Oops."

Alyssa’s fingers uncurled.

The silver chain caught the midday sun, drawing a brilliant, glittering arc through the air before dropping toward the churned foam below.

"Splash."

It was gone.

"No!!"

A feral scream tore from my throat.

Everett's face drained of color. "Grab her!" he barked.

Too late.

In front of the entire upper crust of the city, the girl who was terrified of water didn't hesitate for a single second. I threw myself over the polished brass railing and plunged into the roaring, endless blue.

Everett lunged forward, his fingertips scraping the air.

He didn't even touch the hem of my shirt.