Chapter 2 - The Mask of Grief
Elena’s heart slammed against her ribs. She froze on the ladder, her waterlogged boots dragging her down, looking straight into the eyes of a psychopath. The sharp point of the boat hook hovered barely six inches from her knuckles. If Victoria struck her hands, Elena would plummet backward into the dark water—and take Julian under with her.
“Mother!” Julian’s voice boomed from below the platform as he hoisted his shoulders out of the water. “Grab her hands! Mother, help us!”
In a split second that defied human belief, Victoria’s face transformed. The murderous sneer vanished, replaced instantly by an expression of agonizing maternal terror. Her hand tilted, letting the boat hook clatter dramatically against the deck. She dropped to her knees, sobbing hysterically, reaching out her manicured arms toward Elena.
“Oh my God! Oh merciful God! Julian! Elena! Take my hand!” Victoria shrieked, her voice echoing across the open ocean, loud enough to ensure the crew on the upper bridge could hear her distress. “Hold on, darling! Don’t let her slip!”
Elena wanted to scream out the truth, but the freezing Atlantic had paralyzed her vocal cords. Victoria grabbed Elena’s wrists, digging her diamond rings into Elena’s bruised flesh with agonizing pressure—a silent warning disguised as a desperate rescue. With Julian pushing from below and Victoria pulling with calculated theatrics, Elena was hauled onto the teak deck like a half-drowned creature.
Julian vaulted over the railing seconds later, collapsing beside Elena. He gathered his trembling wife into his arms, weeping into her soaked hair. “You’re alive. You’re safe. Oh God, Elena, I thought I lost you.”
Elena shuddered violently, her teeth chattering so hard they threatened to crack. Over Julian’s trembling shoulder, she locked eyes with Victoria, who was now kneeling on the deck, dabbing real tears from her cheeks with a silk napkin.
“It was the champagne,” Victoria cried, looking toward Captain Miller, who came running down the companionway with heavy wool blankets. “She was leaning over to look at the dolphins, Julian! I told her not to stand so close to the railing, I begged her! I reached out to grab her sash, but she slipped right out of my hands! Oh, the horror! It was an accident, a terrible, wretched accident!”
“She’s lying…” Elena whispered hoarsely, her voice raw from the salt. “Julian… she shoved me.”
Julian pulled back, his brow furrowed in utter confusion. He looked from Elena’s shivering, pale face to his mother’s tear-stained cheeks.
Victoria let out a theatrical, wounded gasp, pressing a hand to her chest. “Elena… darling, you’re in shock. The trauma, the lack of oxygen… How could you accuse me of such an atrocity? I raised Julian alone! I welcomed you into our family! I nearly broke my wrist trying to keep you from falling!”
“Captain!” Julian commanded, his voice cracking with emotional overload. “Get her into the master suite! Call the private medical team on the satellite phone right now!”
Captain Miller and two deckhands wrapped Elena in heavy blankets, lifting her from the deck. As they carried her inside the climate-controlled warmth of the salon, Victoria stood by the sliding glass doors.
As Julian turned his back to speak to the captain, Victoria leaned in close to Elena’s ear. Her sobbing ceased instantly. Her eyes were dry, black, and merciless.
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“Next time,” Victoria murmured, barely audible over the hum of the air conditioning, “I’ll make sure there are no life jackets, no witnesses, and no Julian to play the hero. Keep your mouth shut, little girl, or your family in Ohio will suffer the consequences.”
***
