Chapter 110
Adrian's POV
The floor beneath them began to tilt. Another custom feature, designed to simulate rough seas. Subtle at first, just enough to make them stumble.
Scarlett lost her balance first. Her stiletto caught on wet tile. She went down hard and slid directly into the churning pool with a scream that echoed off the glass walls.
Vivian tried to grab her. The tilting floor sent her tumbling in after.
I watched them thrash in the artificial currents. Their designer dresses dragged them down. The wave generators pushed them away from the sides every time they tried to grab the edge. The drainage system created a pull toward the center that made swimming nearly impossible.
I let them struggle. Thirty seconds. Forty-five. A full minute.
Let them feel the panic. The exhaustion. The creeping certainty that they might actually drown.
Let them understand exactly what they'd done to Evelyn.
"Please!" Vivian's scream was raw with terror. "Please, we're sorry! We'll do anything!"
I crouched at the pool's edge. Close enough that they could see my face clearly. Could read the absolute lack of mercy in my eyes.
"Anything? How generous." My voice was soft. Deadly. "Here's what you're going to do. You're going to disappear from New York society. You're going to tell everyone you've decided to pursue opportunities abroad. And you're never going to speak Evelyn's name again. Are we clear?"
Scarlett, choking on pool water, could only nod frantically.
Vivian was crying, mascara running in black rivers. She managed a strangled "Yes."
"Good." I stood, brushing imaginary lint from my sleeve. I walked back to the control panel.
The wave generators shut down. The floor leveled. The drainage system closed. The pool's surface gradually stilled.
"The ladder will deploy in sixty seconds. I suggest you use that time to reflect on the consequences of your actions."
I left them there, gasping and sobbing in the water.
By the time I reached the main deck, my expression had smoothed back into the warm, approachable mask of Adrian Winthrop. Beloved son. Successful businessman. Perfect fiancé.
No one would ever know what had happened in the spa level. The security footage would show a systems malfunction, nothing more. Scarlett and Vivian would keep their mouths shut if they valued their social standing.
And if they didn't? I had enough dirt on both their families to bury them six times over.
Isabella's POV
I stood frozen in the corridor outside the spa level, my hand pressed against the cool glass wall, watching Adrian through the one-way window.
He thought he was alone. Thought no one could see what he was doing to Scarlett and Vivian.
But I'd followed him. Some instinct—the same one that had made me pull him back when Evelyn left with Julian—had whispered that something was wrong. That the man who'd kissed my forehead so tenderly moments ago wasn't the same man who'd walked away with that cold, empty smile.
And I'd been right.
The water churned below, violent and merciless. Scarlett's screams echoed through the reinforced glass, barely audible but visceral enough to make my stomach clench. Vivian was sobbing, her mascara running in black rivers as she clawed at the pool's edge, only to be dragged back by the artificial current Adrian had engineered.
He stood at the control panel like a conductor orchestrating a symphony of terror. His posture was relaxed, almost casual. But there was something in the set of his shoulders, the tilt of his head, that made him look like a stranger.
This wasn't the Adrian who'd proposed to me three weeks ago with trembling hands and careful words about duty and partnership. This wasn't the Adrian who'd spent our engagement dinner asking if I was comfortable, if the ring fit properly, if I needed anything at all.
This was someone else entirely. Someone capable of drowning two women without a flicker of remorse.
I should have been horrified. Should have burst through the door and stopped him, called security, done something—anything—to end this before it went too far.
But I didn't move.
Because as I watched Scarlett's head go under for the third time, as I heard Vivian's desperate pleas for mercy, a terrible thought crystallized in my mind: He's doing this for her.
Not for me. Not to defend his fiancée's honor or protect the Russell name from scandal.
For Evelyn.
The woman who'd left with Julian while Adrian stood on the deck, watching her disappear into the night with an expression that made my chest ache even now. The woman whose name he'd never said with the same warmth he used for everyone else, because he felt too much to trust his voice with it. The woman he'd protected tonight by staying silent when I begged him to believe I hadn't orchestrated her near-drowning.
He'd believed me. I'd seen it in his eyes when he'd kissed my forehead. But not because he trusted me.
Because believing me meant Evelyn wasn't in danger from me. And that was all that mattered.
The water finally stilled. Adrian crouched at the pool's edge, and though I couldn't hear his words through the glass, I could read the threat in every line of his body. Scarlett and Vivian nodded frantically, their terror so complete it was almost pitiful.
Then he stood, smoothed his jacket, and walked away as if he'd done nothing more consequential than approve a quarterly report.
I pressed myself against the wall as he passed, holding my breath until his footsteps faded. Only then did I allow myself to move, to step away from the window and lean against the corridor wall, my legs suddenly unsteady.
My phone buzzed in my clutch. A text from Elizabeth: Everything all right? You've been gone a while.
I stared at the message, my thumb hovering over the keyboard. What was I supposed to say? Just watched your nephew commit assault. He's fine. I'm fine. Everything's fine.
Instead, I typed: Just needed some air. Be right there.
The lie came easily. Too easily.
I made my way back to the main deck on autopilot, my mind replaying what I'd witnessed in endless, sickening detail. The party continued around me, guests laughing and drinking and congratulating Adrian and me on our engagement with a warmth that felt like acid on my skin.
Because they didn't know. None of them knew what he was capable of. What he'd do for the woman who wasn't here. The woman who would never be his fiancée, his wife, the mother of his children—all the roles I was supposed to fill.
I found Adrian near the bar, accepting congratulations from one of his business partners with that perfect smile firmly back in place. He looked up as I approached, and for a moment—just a moment—something flickered in his eyes. Guilt, maybe.
Then it was gone, replaced by the careful warmth I'd come to recognize as his default setting with me.
"There you are," he said, extending his hand. "I was starting to worry."
I took his hand because that's what I was supposed to do. Let him pull me close, felt his arm settle around my waist with the easy possessiveness of a man who'd just claimed his prize.
But I wasn't his prize. I was his cover. His acceptable choice. The woman his family approved of, the merger that made sense on paper, the future that looked perfect from the outside.
And he was willing to marry me—to spend the rest of his life pretending—because the woman he actually loved was forbidden.