Chapter 3

A wave of sheer terror crashed over me.

I couldn't believe my own eyes. Julian was trying to drug me?

The man who saved me from suicide, the husband who nursed me back to health for six years—he wanted me dead?

I wasn't imagining things. The white powder dissolved instantly into the clear water.

"Didn't you say you were thirsty, sweetie? Drink up."

His eyes were still dripping with affection.

To me, that gaze had turned demonic. I clutched the cold glass tightly. "Julian, I trust you. Since you cleared Vivian, I must have been paranoid all along. The crash was just an accident."

Julian’s smile stiffened for a split second before returning to normal. "I'm glad you see it that way. Never think about hurting yourself again, okay? I can't live without you."

"Now drink your water so we can rest. We have to be up by four to catch the sunrise."

Even after I backed down, he still wouldn't let me off the hook?

His sweet smile felt like venom seeping through my pores, suffocating me.

A beat later, a flicker of impatience crossed his eyes.

His gentle demeanor hardened. He grabbed the glass and pressed it firmly against my lips, practically forcing it down my throat.

I had no choice.

We were in international waters. Everyone on this ship answered to him.

I took two swallows. Only then did Julian set the glass down and begin softly describing the breathtaking colors of an ocean sunrise.

I didn't hear a single word.

Muttering that my stomach hurt, I bolted into the bathroom, jammed two fingers down my throat, and threw up everything I had just swallowed.

After rinsing my mouth, I walked back out as if nothing had happened.

I palmed a small paring knife under my sweater, gripped the handle tight, and slipped into bed next to him.

When he tried to pull me into his arms, I turned away.

"Let's just sleep. The seasickness is making me dizzy."

Soon, his rhythmic breathing turned into light snores.

My eyes stayed wide open in the dark.

Memories flooded my mind.

During those agonizing years when I couldn't even leave my bedroom, Julian had described the oceanic sunrise to me countless times.

He made it sound like heaven on earth.

He used to say: *Focus on your physical therapy, Chloe. Once you're fully healed, I promise I'll take you out to sea, and we'll watch the sun rise together.*

That very promise had kept me fighting through six years of hellish skin grafts and bone surgeries.

Along with my thirst for the truth, it was my sole reason for living.

And now, that dream was nothing more than ashes.

In the dead of night, Julian sat up and whispered softly, "Chloe?"

I squeezed the knife under my pillow, holding my breath.

In the pitch black, I heard Julian let out a quiet sigh of relief.

A second later, the suite door clicked open. Vivian’s voice floated inside:

"Julian, is it done?"

Julian walked toward her. "Everything's handled."

"I did what you asked and put her to sleep with the powder. She won't wake up until noon."

Vivian let out a smug chuckle. "Worthless little bitch. Her parents died by my hand, and she actually thought she could play games with me?"