Just as Liam was about to explode, Evelyn suddenly clutched her chest and let out a pained moan.
"Liam... I don't feel well... my heart..."
Her face went deathly pale, and she collapsed like a wilted flower.
Liam's rage vanished instantly, replaced by panic.
He shoved me aside and scooped her up.
"Evelyn! Where's her medicine? Get the car! Move!"
He rushed toward the door with her in his arms. As he passed me, he didn't spare me a single glance.
Only threw a cold order over his shoulder: "Watch this crazy woman and her bastard! They don't leave until the results are in!"
The room emptied in a rush.
I stood there, watching his frantic retreat.
It was the same five years ago.
If Evelyn frowned, the world had to stop.
Even when I was bleeding out in the delivery room.
I pulled a crumpled old newspaper from my bag. It featured a photo of Liam in the hospital, tearing my ultrasound scan to pieces.
I crushed the paper into a ball and tossed it into the trash.
Then I dialed an encrypted number.
"Hello."
"The asset is recoverable."
Three days later. The seaside docks.
The wind was bleak, cutting through fabric straight to the bone.
Liam's car was parked near the water's edge. He stood in the wind, clutching the unopened paternity test in one hand.
Evelyn huddled beside him, wrapped in his cashmere coat. Her complexion was rosy—not a trace of her recent "heart attack."
I led the child forward, but a bodyguard blocked our path.
Liam shook the manila envelope, smile sinister. "You want this?"
He pointed to the dark, churning water at his feet.
"Evelyn accidentally dropped her heirloom ring. It's a Farley family treasure—it can't be lost."
His gaze locked onto mine, lips hooking into a cruel smirk. "Nora, I heard you do deep-sea salvage abroad?"
"Since you're so capable, go get it for her."
A blatant power play. Naked humiliation.
The late autumn water was cold enough to induce hypothermia in minutes, and the currents here were treacherous.
Evelyn tugged at Liam's sleeve, feigning concern. "Liam, forget it."
"If it's lost, it's lost. The water is too cold. Sister's body is weak—don't make her go."
Her mouth said *no*, but her eyes danced with anticipation.
"It's your wedding ring," Liam said coldly. "It must be found."
"Isn't she a professional? If she can't handle a little dip, what was she doing acting tough with fifty million dollars?"
I ignored their performance. Bent down and handed the child to my assistant.
Shed my coat, revealing the black wetsuit underneath.
"One condition."
I checked the oxygen tank, voice flat.
"I retrieve the ring; you destroy the DNA test on the spot. Unopened. From then on, the Farley family and I are even. This child has nothing to do with you."
Liam froze, then scoffed. "So eager to destroy it? You know the result will ruin you. Fine. I agree."
In his eyes, my bargaining was just an admission of guilt.
I pulled on my goggles. Bit down on the regulator.
Jumped.
I broke the surface without a splash, vanishing into the gray-black water.
On the dock, the monitoring screen flickered to life, displaying the real-time feed from my suit.
My heart rate: a steady, flat line.
Liam stared at the readout, brows knitting together.
The water was forty-six degrees. My calm irritated him.
Visibility was almost nonexistent.
Suddenly—a powerful surge slammed into me.
*Sabotage.*
The air supply hose shuddered violently, and the flow from the regulator cut off.
Suffocation hit instantly.
I looked up. Through the murky water, the operator under the boat was violently shaking the line.
Evelyn had bribed someone.
She wanted me dead.
On the monitoring screen, my heart rate didn't even flicker.
I didn't scream. I didn't struggle.
Deadly calm settled over me like a second skin. My fingers found the main air supply hose, severed it, and twisted open the backup mini cylinder.
Child's play.
The water's momentum became my weapon. I flipped hard, breaking the undercurrent's grip, and plunged straight into the seabed silt. Rusted scrap metal. Rotting nets. And there—a faint glint.
My fingers hooked like talons and snatched the ring with vicious precision.
Three minutes later, I broke the surface.
I hauled myself onto the pier, drenched and pale, but my eyes cut sharper than tempered steel.
Liam Farley stumbled back a step.
Like he'd seen a ghost.
I strode straight toward Evelyn Fox. Right in front of him, I raised the so-called heirloom ring.
My fingers tightened.
*Crack.*
The gemstone setting buckled, metal pinching into a distorted oval. I tossed it casually. It rolled across the concrete and came to rest against Evelyn's custom leather shoe.
"Fake." I ripped off the respirator, a sneer curling my lip. "Just like your people—gold-plated trash."
The scrape against concrete had peeled away a patch of plating, exposing the cheap, ugly brass beneath.
Evelyn's face drained of color. She looked at Liam in panic.
He stared at the ring on the ground, stunned, then shifted his gaze to my dripping face.
He forgot to breathe.
Slowly, he bent down and retrieved the deformed ring. The mottled copper rust seemed to stab at his eyes. His face turned a livid shade of gray. He whipped his head around to glare at Evelyn, the accusation lodged in his throat like broken glass.
Suddenly, the giant LED advertising screen on the pier blazed to life.
