Running errands. Fetching things. Taking photos for Ethan’s social media.
“Angle it better!” he barked from the pool. “You’re making me look bad.”
By the third night, we were at the resort’s most exclusive restaurant—surrounded by glass walls filled with marine life.
Sophie, already tipsy, smirked at me.
“So,” she said loudly, “you still doing those little drawings?”
“I’m an illustrator,” I replied quietly.
She laughed.
“That’s a fancy way of saying unemployed.”
Ethan said nothing.
His father grunted. “She’s too small-town. No ambition.”
The word stung.
Small-town.
Sophie suddenly slammed her glass down.
“This wine is terrible.”
It wasn’t. It was one of the finest bottles available.
“It’s fine,” I said.
“Oh, please,” she snapped. “Go get a better one.”
She snapped her fingers at me.
The table laughed.
I looked at Ethan.
“Do something,” I said softly.
He rolled his eyes.
“Just go. Stop making this awkward.”
So I stood up—and walked away while strangers watched me like hired help.
In the hallway, Victor approached me, furious.
“Say the word,” he whispered. “I can remove them immediately.”
“Not yet,” I said.
I needed to see the full picture.
When I returned with a new bottle, Sophie poured it… then dumped it on the floor.
“Better,” she said. “Clean it up.”
Chapter 3: The Final Line
The breaking point came the next morning.
At the pool.
Leo was playing in the shallow water, wearing floaties.
Ethan’s father walked over.
“Take those off,” he barked. “You look weak.”
“I can’t swim yet,” Leo said nervously.
“Nonsense.”
Before I could react, he yanked the floaties off.
“Stop!” I shouted.
“Sit down,” Ethan snapped at me. “Let him learn.”
Then—
He threw my son into the deep end.
Leo surfaced, choking.
