Chapter 3
The shock of the cold water enveloped Valentina, silencing the chaotic noise of the wedding terrace. The heavy fabric of her dark-green formal gown clung to her limbs like lead weights, fighting her every movement. She opened her eyes, ignoring the sting of the chlorine, and spotted Ethan’s tiny, struggling form sinking toward the bottom of the brightly lit pool.
With powerful, determined strokes, she swam downward, reaching her hand out until her fingers closed securely in the fabric of his navy formal shirt. She pulled him tightly against her chest and kicked furiously toward the surface.
They broke the water with a massive splash. Valentina gasped for air, immediately hauling Ethan up over the stone coping of the pool. She dragged him onto the wet, sun-baked tiles, her own chest heaving as she pulled herself out of the water behind him.
Ethan coughed violently, expelling water onto the pristine stone. His fair, rosy skin was pale, and he was trembling uncontrollably, but he was breathing. He lunged forward, clinging desperately to his mother’s soaked gown, his small fingers wrapping around the ruined fabric.
"I've got you, baby. I've got you," Valentina whispered fiercely, coughing as she stroked his wet hair. "Mommy is right here. You are safe."
"It was so cold," Ethan sobbed, his American accent broken by his coughing fits. "The lady pushed me."
"I know," Valentina said, her voice dropping into a register of pure, terrifying ice.
A few feet away, unnoticed by the gasping mother and son, Marcus Hale was moving. The thirty-seven-year-old brother of the bride, dressed in a tailored wedding suit with a luxury watch gleaming on his wrist, dropped to his knees. He crawled stealthily beneath a nearby cocktail table, his eyes locked on a specific target.
When Ethan had been pushed into the pool, his small tablet case had fallen onto the dry tiles. Marcus reached his hand out, his fingers stretching toward the abandoned device, desperate to secure it before anyone else noticed.
"What are you doing, Marcus?" a nearby guest asked, confused by the capo's strange behavior.
"Mind your own business," Marcus snapped quietly, his fingers finally grazing the edge of the protective casing.
May you like
But as his thumb brushed against the screen, the tablet’s display lit up brightly. The device, which Ethan had been using to record a video of the wedding decorations moments before the attack, had captured something else entirely.
The tablet suddenly began playing an audio recording at maximum volume, cutting through the murmurs of the stunned wedding guests.
