Chapter 2

The yacht cruised out into international waters.

Nothing but endless ocean all around. Out there, you could scream for help, and nobody would hear a thing.

Besides Isaac and Lindsay, a bunch of her spoiled rich friends came along.

Guys and girls in swimsuits, popping champagne like they owned the world.

I was sitting quietly in the corner, wearing a modest long dress.

Lindsay was strutting around in a bikini. Her body was smoking hot. She curled up in Isaac's arms and fed him drinks.

"Hey, isn't that Isaac's mute wife?" a guy with bleached hair pointed at me and laughed. "Why's she dressed like she's at a funeral?"

"Don't say that," Lindsay pouted playfully. "Sabrina's just conservative, not like us, all shameless and wild."

Everyone burst out laughing.

Isaac didn't laugh. He just gave me a frosty glance. "Such a buzzkill."

Lindsay's eyes sparkled with mischief as she clapped her hands. "Since we're all out here, let's do something exciting. How about Truth or Dare?"

Everyone cheered.

The bottle spun.

First round, it landed right on the guy with bleached hair.

"Dare!" he yelled.

Lindsay pointed at me, grinning, "Go ahead, tear off Sabrina's dress. Let her cool off a little."

My head snapped up. I was startled.

Isaac swirled his drink, staying quiet. His silence said it all. He was totally fine with it.

The bleached-haired guy swaggered over with a greasy grin. "Sorry about this. It's just a game. Don't be a spoilsport."

He reached for the collar of my dress.

I grabbed a wine bottle from the table and smashed it against the edge.

With a bang, the glass shattered.

I seized the jagged neck and held it right against his throat.

The bleached-haired guy freaked out, throwing his hands up. "Holy shit! Isaac, your wife's not messing around."

Isaac's face darkened. "Sabrina, put that down. Don't embarrass me in front of everyone."

I stared Isaac down, refusing to back off.

I pushed the jagged glass forward, nicking the bleached-haired guy's skin. A bead of blood rolled down.

The bleached-haired guy screamed, "I'm bleeding! I'm bleeding. Isaac, do something. Help!"

Lindsay, terrified, hid behind Isaac, trembling. "Sabrina's lost it. Isaac, is she really trying to kill someone?"

Isaac stormed over, grabbed the broken bottle out of my grip, and smacked me across the face with the back of his hand.

He didn't hold back. It was brutal.

My head whipped to the side. My ears rang. I tasted the metallic tang of blood in my mouth.

"Don't know how to act when you're given a chance, huh?" Isaac sneered, towering over me. "Play by my rules. If you want to die, do it somewhere else. Don't dirty my yacht."

I pressed my hand to my face, but I didn't shed a tear or make a fuss.

I just stared at him, silent and still.

My eyes were hollow, like I was looking at someone already dead.

Isaac got creeped out by my stare and frowned. "What are you looking at?"

Lindsay's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Isaac, since Sabrina's acting so tough, why don't we play that one?"

"Which one?" he replied.

"Let's take the kidnapping game to the next level," she said, pointing out at the ocean. "Word is, if you toss someone into the sea, their survival instinct kicks in. They'll beg, scream, and say anything just to stay alive. Maybe that'll snap Sabrina out of being mute."

The crowd started egging them on. "Throw her in! Throw her in."

Isaac hesitated for a split second.

Lindsay tugged at his arm, pouting. "Isaac, there are life rings. She won't drown. I just want to hear her talk, please?"

Isaac shot me a cold look. "Fine. Let's see if this cures her rotten attitude."

A bunch of guys rushed over, grabbed me roughly, and hoisted me off my feet.

I struggled as hard as I could, but their brute strength made it pointless.

They hauled me straight to the edge of the deck.

The sea wind howled. Waves roared beneath us.

At that moment, fear was gone. What burned inside me was pure, overwhelming hatred.

"Sabrina, beg for mercy." Lindsay smirked. "Just say, 'Lindsay, I was wrong,' and I'll have them let you off."

I bit down on my lip so hard that it started to bleed.

I stayed silent.

Isaac said impatiently, "Throw her in."

With a splash, I was thrown into the sea.

The icy water swallowed me whole in an instant.

The suffocating pressure closed in from all sides.

I was struggling in the water, looking up. Lindsay and Isaac were standing side by side on the yacht, watching me like I was their entertainment. They were enjoying every second of my suffering.

She was shouting down at me, "Sabrina, say something. Just talk, and we'll pull you up."

I couldn't swim.

But I didn't call for help.

I just let myself sink, not even trying to fight it.

Because I knew my hidden camera tucked in my collar was capturing everything—every second of their cruelty, clear as day.

Just as I was about to pass out, a life ring came crashing down on my head.

Then, someone dove in and hauled me back onto the yacht.

Turns out, it was the butler.

As the butler pressed on my chest, he said to Isaac, "Mr. Goodman, that's enough. If she really dies, it'll be hard to explain to the fortune teller. We still need her to ward off next month's bad luck."

Isaac frowned, looking at me, soaked and sprawled out like a wet dog. "Pathetic. She just won't die, huh?"

Lindsay pouted, "Mute as ever. Even drowning can't make her talk."

I lay on the deck, coughing violently, spitting out mouthfuls of salty seawater.

I closed my eyes.

Isaac, Lindsay, your days are numbered.

Back at home, I burned up with a fever.

Nobody in the house gave a damn about me.

Isaac took Lindsay to some glitzy gala, leaving just a handful of servants in the house.

One of the servants dumped the scraps into a dog bowl, kicked it over to my bed, and sneered, "Eat it or starve, whatever."

I didn't move.

After the servant left, I pulled out a spare phone from under my mattress.

This was my only bargaining chip.

I turned on the mini camera and exported the footage.

Both the video and audio were sharp and clear.

Isaac's icy indifference, Lindsay's twisted delight, the whole crowd of her friends egging them on. Every second of their attempted murder was right there.

I made three copies.

One went straight to my lawyer.

Another got uploaded to the cloud.

And the last one? I was saving it for the Goodman family's arch-nemesis—Richard Quinn, CEO of Quinn Enterprises.

Richard and Isaac had been bitter rivals for ten years.

Enemy of my enemy is my friend.

After sending the email, I drifted off into a feverish sleep.

When I woke up again, someone had dumped a basin of cold water right on me.