Drowning in the Name of Love

"How's Sierra holding up? Is she still unwilling to apologize to Wren?"

The bodyguard, Pete Barclay, froze.

"Mr. Shaw, Ms. Lane has been hung outside the yacht for almost a day and night," he replied tentatively. "Should we let her go—"

Zachary Shaw snorted. Grabbing a wine glass from the table, he hurled it toward Pete and snarled, "Let her go? Then who's going to pay for the vile things she'd done?

"Wren is sick again because of Sierra's jealousy. How is she going to pay for that?"

Blood trickled from the fresh wound on Pete's forehead.

"Wait." Zachary faltered.

Staring at the incoming waves, he ordered, "Tell the captain to steer the yacht straight into that wave, and let Sierra know that this is the last one. If she makes it through, I'll pull her up and let her rest for a while."

Pete shuddered at the sight of the monstrous wave ahead.

In the instant the yacht slammed into the wave, the entire vessel shook violently. Even Zachary had to grip his chair to keep his balance.

Once the waters finally calmed, the yacht settled into a steady rhythm.

Wren Olsen padded out of the room, her white shirt buttoned haphazardly.

"Zach, what just happened?"

Zachary's face lit up with joy. "Wren, are you alright? Why didn't you rest a little longer?"

She shook her head, gently looping her arm around his. "It's fine. I feel much better now."

He didn't pull away. The two of them stood there, leaning against each other.

As if suddenly remembering something, Wren hastily asked, "Zach, where's Sierra? She's nowhere to be seen. I must've scared her when I fainted. I need to apologize to her!"

Apologize? Her façade made me sick.

I was already dead. How on earth was she going to apologize to me?

The collision between the crashing waves and the yacht tore my body apart, and even the sea creatures had been drawn by the scent of blood, feasting on my remains.

Blood from my scraped wrists was smeared across the yacht's outer shell, a telltale sign of my struggle.

I wondered how Zachary would react if he found out about my death. He would've been delighted, wouldn't he? Now that I was gone, he could finally be with his beloved Wren forever.

He wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, his eyes filled with the fear of nearly losing her.

"You're such a fool. After everything that woman did to you, you're still willing to forgive her? You even want to apologize to her!

"Did you know what she said when I told her to apologize to you? She had the nerve to tell me she regretted it.

"How ridiculous! If that were the case, she shouldn't have done that in the first place. Regret means nothing after she's already hurt you!"

I hovered in the air as a soul, stunned. My heart clenched as I recalled what I said earlier. He was right. I indeed regretted it when he ordered to throw me in the sea.

But what I regretted was ever being with him. It finally dawned on me how ruthless he was when he ordered Pete to tie me up and dangle me over the yacht.

Desperate to survive, I used the weight of my body to rub against the yacht, again and again, until the ropes tore deeply into my wrists. The will to live fueled my strength, and I was so close to escaping.

But as soon as Zachary saw that I was about to escape, he ordered the people to replace the rope with iron shackles.

"Are you trying to escape your punishment? Not a chance!" he snarled. "Even you, who knows how to operate a yacht, couldn't handle these waves, yet you dared to treat Wren like that!"

To make sure I learned my lesson, he had the captain steer us straight into the most treacherous waters.