Chapter 3

I was so angered by Freddie's audacity that the veins on my forehead throbbed with rage. "I'm warning you—if Dad dies, not one of you is getting away with it once the police get here!"

Freddie leisurely took a sip of red wine and said smugly, "You should cut the act. If you want to come up, all you have to do is just beg me. You were acting so tough earlier. Did you suddenly lose your nerve after learning that my wife is on her way?"

Noah had a pre-existing heart condition, so between the intense fury of the day and the fact that he had inhaled water several times, his energy was completely spent. He was clearly in a state of severe physical distress.

I bit my lip, realizing his safety was the only thing that mattered.

I was ready to endure the humiliation and beg for help, but Noah caught my arm and said in a trembling voice, "I've never lowered myself for anyone, especially not for someone as pathetic as him. I'm fine, Connor. I won't spare Zara once she gets here. I know what it's like to be betrayed by a woman, so I've got your back."

Upon seeing that we still showed no intention of pleading, Freddie's gaze turned sinister. He turned to Wyatt and ordered, "Go fetch two buckets of ice from the kitchen. It's time to cool them down some more."

I immediately felt the water temperature drop the moment the ice was dumped in, leaving me shivering uncontrollably. Noah was in even worse shape; his lips had turned purple as he drifted in and out of lucidity.

I patted his face, but there was no reaction. I gritted my teeth as I tried to pull him toward the edge, but Wyatt kept shoving us back with a pole.

I was beyond frantic. My eyes were bloodshot as I yelled, "Dad is seriously not going to make it! You'd better let him out of the pool this instant! If there's a death on the premises, the hotel management will be held liable! Zara will have your heads when she sees what you've done!"

Wyatt, as a swimming instructor, recognized the warning signs on Noah's face. He realized that the situation wasn't good and promptly turned to Freddie, saying, "I think the elderly man is in critical condition, Freddie. I think we should get him out of the pool first.

"It would be pretty gross for you to swim here if he kicks the bucket in the water. I also doubt Ms. Quinlan wants a body on her hands either. If she loses it, I'm definitely getting fired."

Freddie thought it over before scoffing. "You're just worried about losing your job, huh? I had no intention of causing a fatality, but I can't do anything about it if they're being so stubborn.

"I've already said that I would consider allowing them to climb out of the pool as long as they beg me. If they can still struggle, they can still wait. I want to see exactly how much they can take."

Wyatt, acting like Freddie's loyal lapdog, looked down at me and said, "In case you didn't know, Freddie is Ms. Quinlan's beloved. You see, this establishment operates specifically for his benefit, and all other matters are secondary to his needs. Your presence here today was an oversight.

"You should start begging for forgiveness and mercy if you truly value your lives. You're on your own if you remain obstinate!"

I bit my lip forcefully, setting aside all dignity in light of Noah's precarious state. I then said reluctantly, "I'm begging you. Please let my father out of here first. He has a heart condition, so he's really going to die at this rate."

Freddie smirked smugly and asked in a taunting voice, "Didn't you just say I was a shameless homewrecker? I want you to repeat after me—'Connor Simm is the pathetic homewrecker, and Freddie Lester is Zara's actual husband!'"

He was incredibly sensitive about being labeled a homewrecker. He was especially resentful of Connor, a man he had never even met. He viewed Connor as nothing more than a pathetic freeloading loser and couldn't understand what made the man any better than himself.

I realized then that Freddie didn't know that I was actually Connor Simm. He still somehow managed to humiliate me perfectly, though.

I clenched my fists so tightly that my nails pierced my skin. I eventually choked down my pride and said, "Connor Simm is the pathetic homewrecker, and Freddie Lester is Zara's actual husband. You've got what you wanted, right? Hurry up and let Dad out of the pool!"

Freddie's face broke into a satisfied smile, and he said slyly, "I only said I would consider it. I've made up my mind now—you're both staying in there."