Let’s Give Her a Memory Worth Drowning In

Let’s Give Her a Memory Worth Drowning In
Days Later— Megan’s POV...

The black Cadillac SUV cruised smoothly along Manhattan’s West Side, its sleek body shimmering under the fading amber light. Inside, the world felt colder than the steel framing the windows.

Megan sat at the far end of the backseat, her crossed legs barely moving, a silk-gloved hand lazily scrolling through her tablet. Her high ponytail framed her sharply contoured cheekbones, and the diamonds on her earrings danced each time the vehicle hit a slight bump.

“Is everything in place?” Her voice sliced through the air like a chilled blade, never lifting her gaze from the screen.

“Yes, ma’am.” The SS agent seated beside her, clad in an all-black tuxedo with an earpiece coiled into his ear, gave a curt nod. “All the life jackets and floaters she might possibly use todat have been tampered with. They’ll fail on contact.”

Megan paused, eyes flicking to him like a hawk locking on prey. “And the girls? The ones who’ll ‘accidentally’ shove her overboard— whether she jumps or not?”

“They’re already on the yacht, dressed and mingling. Waiting for her to arrive.”

Her fingers stopped scrolling. She placed the tablet down between them. “Good. And no last-minute cancellations from her? She didn’t suddenly grow a brain and decide not to come?”

“No, ma’am,” the agent said quickly, tapping his earpiece to confirm. “She’s en route now. Confirmed by the team tailing her vehicle.”

Megan nodded slowly, satisfaction curving her crimson-painted lips. “That bitch won’t know what hit her… until it’s too late.”

She then leaned forward slightly, locking eyes with the agent. “And we’re sure she can’t swim? Because if she could, all of this is for nothing.”

The agent gulped, shoulders stiffening under her scrutiny. “The report I got says she can’t, ma’am.”

Megan narrowed her eyes. “The report says? Or you know?”

He hesitated. “I—I can’t say with absolute certainty, not with the short prep time. But all indications—”

“For your sake, I hope she can’t,” she said, her smile fading into something cold and cruel. “Because if she makes it out of that water... let's just leave it at that. You already know what I can do."

“She won't, ma’am,” he said, voice cracking with urgency. “If she can swim… I’ll find a way to end her myself. Maybe poison her. She won't make it out of the party alive.”

Megan’s brow lifted. “And how does that help me? I want this to look like an accident, genius. The moment it looks like murder, I’m on every damn headline across the country. Carlos will trace this back to me in a heartbeat.”

The SUV fell into silence, thick and suffocating.

Then the agent cleared his throat. “I just thought of something else… If she makes it out alive, I’ll slash the rear tires of the SUV she’ll be riding home in. Not completely— just enough to blow when she’s on the expressway. A high-speed crash. If that doesn’t kill her, I’ll be there to finish the job myself.”

Megan’s eyes sparkled with morbid glee. “Now that’s the kind of thinking I like.” She nodded, slowly and repeatedly, a wicked grin spreading across her face. “Carlos won’t suspect a damn thing. Not a fucking thing. It will read 'Fatal accident' on paper. That's perfect.”

She gave his shoulder a sharp jab with the back of her knuckle, laughing. “Smart. Very smart. That’s why I keep you around.”

The agent relaxed slightly, offering a forced smile. “Anything to keep you happy, ma’am.”

Megan licked her teeth slowly, her grin still lingering. “You’re going to die today, sweetheart,” she whispered to herself with delight, imagining Emily’s face. “Enjoy your last hours. This is what happens when you try to share my man with me.”

The rest of the ride passed in a hush. The only sound came from the distant hum of traffic and the occasional radio static from the agent’s earpiece.

Then— brake lights flared, the SUV rolled to a smooth stop.

The driver peeked into the rearview mirror, his voice tentative. “We’re here, ma’am.”

“I’m not blind,” Megan snapped, reaching for the door handle without breaking stride. Then she froze and leaned forward, her tone dropping into an icy whisper. “I know you heard everything we said. You even blink wrong, or whisper a word of this, and your family dies before I go down. Clear?”

The driver swallowed hard, blinking rapidly. “Ma’am, I didn’t hear a thing. Matter of fact, I wasn’t even in this car this morning.”

Megan smiled. “Smart man. I like smart people.”

With that, she pushed the door open and stepped out onto the riverfront pavement, the sharp click of her heels echoing off the stone walk. The Hudson glittered under the warm hues of sunset, casting golden light across the surface like a silent witness to whatever was about to happen.

Megan took a deep breath, hands on her hips, eyes fixed on the luxury yacht anchored just ahead.

“I can’t wait to see your corpse,” she muttered, lips curling into a venomous smirk.

The SS agent stepped out behind her, fixing the button on his blazer as he fell into step beside her. Together, they strode toward the shining beast of wealth moored ahead.

The yacht was a marvel— multiple decks, glass balconies, chrome railings that gleamed under the rising sun. Music floated down from the main deck— jazz mingled with soft laughter, the kind of ambiance only the rich could afford.

At the bottom of the boarding ramp, a host in a white blazer greeted Megan with a reverent bow. “Welcome, Ms Antonio.”

“Save it,” she said, brushing past him with the grace of a queen but the ice of an executioner. Her eyes swept the deck, scanning for her prey.

The yacht was alive with guests— socialites sipping champagne, influencers posing for pictures, businessmen talking investments— but Megan’s gaze pierced through them all.

She turned to the SS agent, voice low. “Make sure the girls are in position.”

“They are, ma’am. Just say the word.”

Megan’s tongue ran slowly over her front teeth. “Let’s give her a memory worth drowning in.”

And with that, she ascended the final steps to the upper deck, where glittering lights, false smiles, and one woman’s imminent doom waited like sharks beneath glassy water.