Her Lover Tried To Drown Dad

Id brought my father-in-law here for a much-needed vacation, but the second we stepped toward the hotel pool, a man in a garish, overpriced designer shirt started running his mouth.

Since when does this place let just any stray in? You sure they didnt sneak in through the service entrance? He pinched his nose, eyeing us with a performative shudder of disgust. "Sharing a pool with people like this Im actually worried about catching something."

My mood, which had been light only moments ago, curdled instantly. I didnt hold back. "Were paying guests. We have every right to be here. If youre so worried about the crowd, go build yourself a private villa."

The mans face turned a violent shade of puce. He surged forward, jabbing a finger inches from my nose. "Do you have any idea who owns this hotel? My wife! I have the penthouse suite on a permanent lease!" He sprayed spit as he screamed. "Get out. Now. Your cheap, pathetic energy is polluting the water. Its making me sick just looking at you."

I traded a look with my father-in-law, Antony. Our eyes went cold simultaneously. This was one of the flagship properties of the Whitmore GroupOctavias hotel. Since when did she have another husband?

Antony and I had intended to keep things low-key. We hadn't flashed our credentials at check-in, wanting a genuine guest experience, but I never expected it to turn into a circus.

Antony had been a titan of industry for thirty years. He didn't even see this clown as a threat; he saw him as a nuisance to be swatted.

"Who do you think you are, giving us orders?" Antony said, his voice level but carrying the weight of a gavel. "Youre the one who needs to leave. Your lack of manners is the only thing making this place feel cheap."

He turned to me, ignoring the man who was now vibrating with rage. "Beckett, lets just swim. Ignore him. When we get back, Ill have a very long conversation with Octavia about exactly whats going on here."

Being ignored was clearly the man's breaking point. A cruel, jagged smile twisted his face. "Fine. If you love the water so much, lets see how long you can stay in it."

He barked into his phone, and a moment later, a burly, thick-necked guy in a staff polo jogged over. He looked at the garish man with fawning desperation. "Hey, Zane. Whats up? Ready for your lesson?"

Zane pointed at us, his eyes gleaming with malice. "Rick, do me a favor. These two bottom-feeders need a lesson in humility. Show them how we handle 'trash' in Malibu."

Rick didn't hesitate. He was a local swim coach, the kind of guy who thought muscles made him untouchable. "Don't worry, Zane. I know exactly how to handle guys who can't hold their breath."

Before I could react, Rick dove into the water. He surged toward Antony, and with a sickening splash, he jammed his hand onto the back of Antonys head, forcing him deep under the surface.

Antony was in his late sixties. He was fit, but he was no match for a man in his prime. He began to thrash, bubbles breaking the surface in a frantic, desperate rhythm.

"Stop!" I screamed, lunging through the water to shove Rick away. But the coach was fast. He pivoted, using his momentum to shove me down, too. I swallowed a mouthful of chlorinated water, my lungs burning as I fought to get back up.

I managed to catch Rick with a sharp, desperate kick to the groin. He let out a muffled groan underwater and released his grip.

I scrambled to grab Antony, hauling him to the surface. He was blue around the lips, gasping for air, his body racked by a cough so violent it sounded like his lungs were tearing. This was a man who had built an empire from a single roadside motel into a global luxury brand. He was a man used to being treated with the utmost reverence.

To be degraded like this it was unthinkable.

He leaned against the edge of the pool, his chest heaving. "You you could have killed me," he rasped, his voice trembling with fury. "This is assault. I'm calling my legal team. Youre finished."

Zane just laughed, swirling a drink hed picked up from a nearby table. "Kill you? Who cares? My wife owns hundreds of hotels. She makes enough in a day to buy and sell your miserable lives ten times over. You want to talk about lawyers? You think you can afford to play in our league?"

My heart hammered against my ribs, but not just from the exertion. This hotel was one of the many Antony had handed over to Octavia to manage. This mans "owner" act was too specific to be a coincidence.

I gripped Antonys shoulder to steady him and looked Zane dead in the eye. "Is your wifes name Octavia Whitmore?"

He smirked, preening like a peacock. "So, youve heard of her. Good. At least you aren't totally illiterate." He leaned down over the edge of the pool. "If you get on your knees right now, apologize, and then scrub this deck until it sparkles, I might tell her to go easy on you. Otherwise, when she gets here, youre dead meat."

A cold, hollow ache opened up in my chest. Octaviathe woman who had promised me forever, the woman I thought was my soulmatewas she really doing this?

Then, my eyes caught the tattoo just below his collarbone. It was a delicate, crimson maple leaf.

I had seen the exact same design on Octavias lower hip.

Shed told me she got it because the day we met, the autumn leaves were turning that specific, brilliant shade of red. She called it our "forever mark." I remembered being so moved, so deeply touched by her romanticism.

What a joke. It wasn't our mark. It was theirs.

The anger that rose in me was cold and sharp. It cleared my head. "As far as I know," I said, my voice cutting through his laughter, "Octavia Whitmores husband is a man named Beckett Montgomery. And you don't look like a Montgomery to me. Youre just the side-piece, aren't you? A kept man whos forgotten his place."

Zanes smile vanished. His face contorted. "Don't you dare mention that losers name to me. Love doesn't follow a schedule. The person who isn't loved is the real interloper. Beckett is just a ghost she hasn't bothered to exorcise yet."

He pulled out his phone, his voice dropping into a sickening, performative whine as the call connected. "Octa? Baby, where are you? Im at the pool and these two old creeps are harassing me. Theyre calling me names, baby its horrible. You need to get down here and handle this. And listen, I want the pool cleared. Just for us. Ive been practicing some new moves in the water. I want to show you."

He hung up, his smugness returning tenfold. "Shell be here in thirty minutes. Youre done. She has ways of making people like you disappear."

I was shaking, a wave of nausea rolling over me. To think of her whispering sweet nothings to me last night, only to plan "water moves" with this brat today it was repulsive.

Antony looked at me, and I saw the heartbreak in his eyes transition into a hardened, diamond-sharp resolve. He knew. "Octavia," he whispered, his voice thick with disgust. "Shes exactly like her mother. Everything I gave her I can take it all back."

Antony hated infidelity with a passion that bordered on the religious. His first wifeOctavias motherhad stripped him of everything years ago, running off with a younger man and leaving him to rebuild from nothing while raising a daughter alone. He had poured his soul into Octavia, only to find the rot was hereditary.

Antony owned the empire. Octavia just ran a piece of it. And as for meBeckett Montgomerythe world might think I was a "trophy husband" because I preferred the quiet of my art studio to the boardroom, but I was the sole heir to the Montgomery shipping fortune. I didn't need Octavias money. I had only ever wanted her heart.

"I can't wait to see how she explains this," I muttered.

I noticed Antonys face growing pale, his hand clutching at his chest. I moved to help him out of the water, but Zane gestured to the coach. Rick jumped back onto the deck and, as Antony reached for the ladder, Rick delivered a sharp, brutal kick to Antonys shoulder.

Antony splashed back into the pool, gasping.

Zane roared with laughter. "Look at you! Like two drowning rats. You wanted the pool, didn't you? Stay in it! Rick, don't let them out until my wife gets here."

Rick smirked. "You got it, Zane. Just remember to tell Ms. Whitmore how helpful I was. Im looking for that promotion to Head of Athletics."

Every time I tried to help Antony toward the edge, Rick was there, blocking us, threatening us with his heavy boots. Antonys breathing became shallow, a terrifying whistling sound coming from his throat.

"This isn't a game!" I screamed at the shore. "He has a heart condition! Let him out or I swear to God, youll spend the rest of your life in a cage!"

Zane just swirled his wine. "Nice try. The 'heart attack' gambit? Please. You were swimming fine a minute ago. Rick, go kill the heater for the pool. Lets see how they like the cold-water treatment."

"If he dies," I spat, my voice cracking, "its murder. The police won't care who your wife is."

Zane leaned back in his lounge chair, basking in the sun. "Oh, stop being so dramatic. You want out? Beg. I thought you were so 'refined.' Lets hear it. Beg for your lives."

Antonys lips were turning a terrifying shade of slate blue. He was shivering violently now, his eyes fluttering. I looked at him, ready to swallow every ounce of pride I had to save him.

But Antony grabbed my arm. His grip was weak, but his eyes were fierce. "Don't," he wheezed. "I have never knelt to a dog and I won't start now. Beckett Ill be okay. But after today she is dead to me. I survived her mother. Ill survive her."

Zane, annoyed by our defiance, turned to Rick. "Go to the kitchen. Bring out two buckets of ice. Lets give these 'high-society' types a real chill."

The ice hit the water around us with a series of sharp splashes. The temperature plummeted. I held Antony close, trying to share my body heat, but I was losing the battle. He was slipping away, his consciousness fading.

"Help!" I screamed, the sound echoing off the luxury tiles. "Somebody! Hes dying!"

The pool area was secluded, reserved for "VIPs." No one came.

Rick finally looked a little nervous. He glanced at Antonys limp form. "Hey, Zane he looks pretty bad. Maybe we should let them up? If someone dies in the pool, the health inspectors will shut us down for weeks. Ms. Whitmore wouldn't like that."

Zane paused, then shrugged. "I suppose youre right. But they haven't learned their lesson. I told themapologize, or stay in." He looked down at me. "Tell the truth, loser. Tell me Im the man Octavia loves. Tell me Beckett Montgomery is a pathetic cuckold, and Im the real king of this castle."

He didn't know I was Beckett. He was asking me to curse my own name.

I looked at Antony. His head was lolling back. His heart was failing. Nothing matterednot my pride, not my name, not the betrayal.

"I beg you," I whispered, my voice thick with bile. "Please. Just let him up. Hes dying."

Zane grinned, a predator who had finally tasted blood. "Say it. Say Beckett is a loser and Im the husband."

I squeezed my eyes shut, my nails digging into my palms. "Beckett is a pathetic loser," I choked out. "Youre youre the only one she loves. Now let us up!"

He laughed, a high, mocking sound. "I said Id consider it. And Ive considered it. I think you can stay in another five minutes."

"Youre a dead man," I hissed, my voice a low, terrifying promise. "That is her father. Antony Whitmore. If he dies, Octavia will skin you alive herself just to keep the cops off her back."

Zane froze for a split second, then doubled over in laughter. "Oh, thats rich! Now hes the father? You just called him 'Dad' ten minutes ago! You guys are desperate. Whats next? Is he the Pope?"

Antonys body went rigid in my arms, then suddenly limp. He stopped shivering. His breathing stopped.

"Help! Help! Cardiac arrest!" I roared.

Finally, the hotel manager came running toward the commotion. He didn't recognize Antony immediatelyit had been years since Antony had personally visited this sitebut he saw the body in the water and turned pale.

"Mr. Zane, what is happening?"

"Just teaching some trespassers a lesson, Miller," Zane said, though he looked a bit twitchy now.

"They need to come out, now," Miller said, his professional instinct for liability kicking in. "If a guest dies, were all ruined."

Zane sighed, waving a hand dismissively. "Fine, fine. Let them up. Theyve ruined my afternoon anyway."

Rick hauled us out. I collapsed on the deck, coughing, but immediately scrambled toward the locker rooms where our bags were. I needed Antonys nitroglycerin.

I found the bottle, my hands shaking so hard the pills nearly spilled. I ran back to Antony, who was sprawled on the tiles, silent. I tried to prize his jaw open to get the pill under his tongue.

Suddenly, a foot shot out. Zane kicked the bottle right out of my hand. It skittered across the deck and fell through the drainage grate into the pool.

"Enough with the theater," Zane snapped. "Youre out. Now get your trash and get lost before I call security to have you arrested for trespassing."

The world turned red. I didn't think. I lunged upward and landed a solid, bone-crunching hook right across Zanes jaw. He went down hard.

"If he dies," I roared, "I will burn your world to the ground!"

Zane screamed, clutching his face. "You hit me! Rick! Miller! Kill him!"

The coach and the manager grabbed me, pinning my arms behind my back. Zane got up, his eyes wild with fury, and began raining slaps and punches across my face. My head spun, the copper taste of blood filling my mouth.

I forced myself to stay conscious. I had to save Antony. I wrenched my arm free, nearly dislocating my shoulder, and lunged for my phone in my discarded bag. I dialed Octavia.

"Octavia! Antony is having a heart attack at the Malibu pool. Get a medical team here now! If youre not here in ten minutes, hes gone!"

Octavias voice came through, cold and irritated. "Beckett? What are you talking about? My father is in the city. Stop playing games to get my attention. I'm in a meeting. Call an ambulance if youre so worried."

She hung up.

I stared at the phone, my heart breaking for the final time.

Then, the glass doors to the lobby slid open. Zanes face transformed from rage to pure, ecstatic joy.

"Octa! Baby! Youre finally here!"