Chapter 145
Julian's POV
She went over the railing.
One second she was there—eyes wide, mouth open in a scream I couldn't hear over the roar of blood in my ears—and the next she was gone.
My body moved before my brain caught up. Hands gripping the cold metal railing. One foot on the lower bar.
I'm coming. I'm coming. Hold on.
I vaulted up.
"Mr. Sterling, NO!"
Hands grabbed me from behind. Strong. Dragged me backward.
I roared. Twisted. Slammed my elbow back.
Connected with something solid. Heard a grunt.
The grip loosened.
I lunged for the railing again.
More hands. Two people now. Maybe three.
"Let me GO!" I thrashed. "She's down there! ELENA!"
"Sir, you need to calm—"
I headbutted whoever was speaking. Felt the crunch of cartilage.
But they didn't let go.
"GET OFF ME!" I bucked. Kicked. "I have to—she's in the water—I have to—"
"You jump, you die!" Adrian's voice. Right in my ear. "Julian, LISTEN TO ME. You jump, you die, and then who saves her?"
"I DON'T CARE!" I slammed my head back again. "Let me go let me go LET ME GO—"
Something hard hit the back of my knees.
I went down.
Three men piled on top of me. Pressed me flat against the concrete walkway.
I fought them. Clawed at the ground. Tried to crawl toward the railing.
"ELENA!" My voice cracked. Broke. "ELENA, I'M COMING!"
Adrian's face appeared in front of mine. Blood streaming from his nose.
"I've called the Coast Guard," he said. Calm. Too calm. "They're two minutes out. They have divers. Equipment. They can save her."
"Two minutes." I stopped fighting. Went limp. "She'll be dead in two minutes."
"You don't know that."
"I know she didn't fight." My voice came out hollow. "When she went over. She didn't scream. Didn't grab for the railing. She just... let go."
Like she wanted it.
The thought made something inside me snap.
I started laughing.
High. Unhinged.
"She wanted to die." The words bubbled out between laughs. "Her mother just died and she wanted to die too and I couldn't stop her I couldn't—"
The laughter turned to sobs.
"Get off me." I shoved at the men still holding me down. "Get OFF."
They slowly released me.
I crawled to the railing. Looked down.
Gray water. Churning. No sign of her.
"Elena." My voice was a whisper now. "Please. Please don't leave me."
Sirens wailed in the distance. Getting closer.
Orange and white boats. Coast Guard insignia. Divers in wetsuits already hitting the water.
Professional. Efficient.
Too slow.
"THERE!" I pointed to where I'd seen her go in. "She went in right there!"
I watched the divers disappear under the surface.
Counted the seconds until they came back up.
Empty-handed.
"Again!" I shouted down at them. "Go again! She's down there!"
They went under.
Came up.
Nothing.
Again.
Again.
I didn't move from the railing.
Adrian brought me water. I didn't drink it.
He tried to get me to sit down, but I shoved him away.
"Mr. Sterling." A Coast Guard officer approached. Older. Gray at the temples. "I'm Lieutenant Morrison. We need to expand the search grid. The current is strong here. If she went in at this point, she could have drifted—"
"How far?" My voice was hoarse from screaming.
"In this amount of time... possibly two miles downstream."
Two miles.
In freezing water.
Unconscious.
Dead.
"No." I shook my head. "No, she's stronger than that."
"Sir, I need you to understand—"
"I understand that you're not looking hard enough!" I grabbed his vest. "My wife is in that water! FIND HER!"
Adrian pulled me off him. "Julian. Stop."
Hours passed.
The search boats spread out. Farther downstream.
The divers kept going under.
Kept coming up with nothing.
Morrison came back as the sun started to set.
His face told me everything.
"We're suspending the search for tonight," he said quietly. "We'll resume at first light—"
"No." I shook my head. "No, you don't stop."
"Mr. Sterling. The water temperature is forty-five degrees. The time elapsed... I'm sorry, but the chances of survival—"
"DON'T." I lunged at him. "Don't you DARE tell me she's dead!"
Adrian caught me. Held me back.
"She's not dead!" I was screaming again. "She's NOT DEAD because if she's dead then I—then I—"
I couldn't finish.
Couldn't breathe.
My legs gave out.
I knelt there. Staring at the darkening water.
"Elena," I whispered. "Please. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for everything. Just please... please don't leave me."
The water lapped against the pylons.
Gentle.
Mocking.
Adrian crouched beside me. "Come on. Let's get you—"
"I'm not leaving." My voice was dead. Flat. "Not until they find her."
"Julian—"
"I said I'm not leaving."
I just knelt there.
Staring at the black water.
Waiting.
---
[Third Person POV - Two Miles Downstream]
Alexander Hunt's phone buzzed.
The message was brief: Subject in water. Brooklyn Bridge. Estimated drift: your location in 40 minutes.
He was already moving.
Down the rocks. To the river's edge.
His security team had been tracking Elena Vance for weeks. Ever since he'd seen that locket around her neck and known—known—who she really was.
The daughter of the family he'd been searching for.
He scanned the water. The current was strong here. Fast.
If she'd gone in at the bridge, the river would bring her right to him.
If she was still alive.
Twenty minutes passed.
Thirty.
Then he saw it.
A flash of dark fabric. Pale skin.
Tumbling in the current like a broken doll.
He waded in. The cold water hit him like a fist.
He pushed deeper. Waited for the current to bring her closer.
There.
He lunged. Grabbed.
Her body was limp. Heavy. Waterlogged.
He dragged her to shore. Laid her on the rocks.
She wasn't breathing.
No pulse.
He tilted her head back. Started compressions.
Thirty. Two breaths.
Again.
He felt a rib crack under his hands. Didn't stop.
Again.
Water spilled from her mouth.
She coughed. Choked. Eyes fluttering.
But she didn't wake.
He checked her pulse. Weak. Thready.
But there.
Alexander gathered her into his arms. Stood.
His helicopter waited in the clearing fifty yards back. Rotors already spinning.
"I'm not going to let you die, Elena." He carried her toward the aircraft. "I know who you are."
He climbed into the helicopter. Laid her across the back seat. Wrapped her in thermal blankets.
Her lips were blue. Skin gray.
But her chest was moving.
Shallow. Irregular.
But moving.
"I'm taking you home," he murmured. "Where you belong. Where you'll be safe."
The pilot looked back. "Hospital, sir?"
"No." Alexander buckled Elena in. "The estate. I have doctors waiting."
The helicopter lifted off.
Banking east. Away from the city.
Away from the search lights still sweeping the bridge.
Away from Julian Sterling.
Alexander looked down at Elena's pale, unconscious face.
She looked so much like her mother.
"You're safe now," he whispered. "I promise. No one will hurt you again."
The helicopter disappeared into the twilight.
And two miles upstream, Julian Sterling knelt on the Brooklyn Bridge.
Still calling her name.
Still waiting for her to come back.
Not knowing she was already gone.