The CEO Beautiful Regret
I couldn't.
I lunged forward, dropping to my knees on the cold concrete of the utility room. Ignoring the sharp pain in my scraped hands, I grabbed the collar of Dominic’s wet shirt, anchoring my weight against the floor.
Below us, the diver pulled a short, serrated diving knife from his chest rig. He wasn't trying to capture Dominic anymore; he was going to cut his achilles tendon to let the turbine current do the rest of the work.
Dominic didn't wait for the blade to drop. He smashed his free boot downward, using the heavy heel to strike the diver directly in the center of his glass mask.