Chapter 4 - The Push into the Dark Waters
The storm broke over the Caribbean with sudden, violent fury.
Gale-force winds whipped the ocean into six-foot black swells, and torrential rain hammered the teak decking like gunfire. The yacht pitched heavily as the engines idled in the open sea.
Flynn supported me against the polished mahogany railing of the aft swim platform.
Below us, the pitch-black ocean churned with white foam and churning propeller wash.
"Flynn... it's too cold..." I whimpered, letting my knees buckle against his legs. "Take me back inside..."
Flynn didn't answer.
His arm tightened around my waist, lifting me until my hips pressed hard against the top rail.
His tender, affectionate facade vanished completely, replaced by a cold, predatory sneer.
"You really were a sweet girl, Elena," Flynn whispered into my ear, his voice carrying clearly above the roaring wind. "Too bad you're worth three hundred million dollars dead."
With one violent, calculated shove, Flynn thrust me backward over the edge.
My body plunged into the freezing void.
Above me, against the stormy sky, Flynn stood at the railing, watching me fall with an arrogant, triumphant smile before turning his back and walking back into the warm, illuminated cabin.
May you like
SPLASH.
The black Caribbean water swallowed me whole.
