Chapter 9 - The Edge of the Abyss
A monster wave, thirty feet high, crashed over the aft deck the second they hit the exterior teak. Saltwater pounded them like a concrete slab, dragging both women across the deck toward the safety railing.
Elena’s fingers found the heavy steel base of the yacht’s hydraulic winch. She locked her arms around it, sputtering for air, fighting the violent suction of the receding wave.
Victoria wasn't so lucky. The torrent of water slammed her against the stern railing—the very same railing where she had pushed Elena only hours earlier.
The yacht crested another massive swell, tilting violently toward the churning Atlantic. Victoria’s boots slipped on the slick deck. With a strangled scream, she tumbled over the rail, her fingers catching the bottom cable at the very last second.
Now, the tables had completely turned.
Victoria was dangling over the raging, black Atlantic. Below her, the massive twin propellers churned the water into a white, lethal vortex. The freezing wind tore at her clothes, and the heavy rain whipped her face. Her manicured fingers were slipping, millimeter by millimeter, from the wet steel cable.
“Julian!” Victoria shrieked into the howling tempest. “Julian, save me! Help your mother!”
Julian staggered out of the burning salon, blood dripping from his forearms, clutching his bruised ribs. He stumbled onto the slick deck, falling to his knees beside Elena. He looked over the edge at the woman who had birthed him, the woman who had murdered his father, the woman who had tried to execute his wife.
Victoria looked up at them, her eyes wide with animalistic panic. “Julian… please! I’m your mother! Elena, tell him! You’re a good girl, Elena, you wouldn't let an old woman die! Forgive me! I’ll give you everything! The money, the trust, the estate—take it all! Just pull me up!”
Elena slowly stood up, bracing herself against the deckhouse, the freezing rain washing the soot from her face. She looked down at the woman dangling over the abyss. There was no hatred in Elena’s eyes—only a profound, chilling pity.
“You told me on the ladder that Julian would drown with me,” Elena said, her voice cutting through the roar of the gale. “You told me to let go.”
“Julian! Please!” Victoria sobbed, her fingers cramping, her strength failing. “I’m your mother!”
Julian crawled to the edge of the railing. He reached out his hand.
For a second, Victoria’s eyes lit up with desperate hope. She reached her right hand upward to grasp his fingers.
Julian stopped his hand three inches above hers.
“You stopped being my mother,” Julian said, his voice flat, devoid of all emotion, “the second you pushed my wife into that water.”
Julian didn't push her. He didn't strike her.
He simply pulled his hand back, stood up, and wrapped his arm around Elena’s waist, turning his back to the ocean.
“NO!” Victoria’s final shriek was swallowed by the roar of the Atlantic.
May you like
Her fingers slipped from the wet cable. Her body tumbled backward into the darkness, hitting the churned wake behind the yacht. For a fraction of a second, her black jacket was visible against the white foam, and then the dark, merciless sea pulled Victoria Montgomery under, claiming its final debt.
***
