Zoe got tossed out of the auction hall like trash, right in front of everyone.

Her dress was wrecked, her body ached from where security had roughed her up—but none of it hurt like her heart did.

Outside, fireworks lit up the sky—used only when someone locked in a win.

She just stood there, staring. By the time she blinked, her cheeks were already soaked.

Whatever was left of her feelings for Connor burned out right then, gone with her mom's stolen bangle.

She wiped her face, pulled herself together, and grabbed every asset she still had.

She was going to his place. That bangle was the one thing she wasn't walking away from.

***

Zoe showed up just as Connor's car rolled through the gate.

Vicky froze when she saw her, instantly shoving the hand with the gemstone bangle behind her back.

Zoe's face was pale, her hands clutching a fresh stack of financial statements.

"Give me back my mother's bangle. All of this—it's yours," she said, voice shaking in the cold but steady as ever.

Connor's jaw tightened. At the word "bangle", his scowl deepened.

"Vicky's the lady of my house now. We don't need your money."

Zoe didn't say a word. She just stepped in their way, arm out, eyes locked on them.

Vicky placed a soft hand on Connor's arm. "Go inside, Connor. This is between me and Zoe. I'll handle it."

He paused, then turned and walked off.

The second he was gone, Vicky's whole vibe flipped cold.

She smacked the papers out of Zoe's hands like they were nothing.

Then she smirked, lifted her wrist—and chucked the bangle straight into the pond.

Zoe didn't even think—she watched the bangle disappear and dove in after it.

The freezing water slammed into her, stealing her breath and numbing her on contact.

She thrashed for a second, then the panic hit.

She couldn't swim.

The cold, the dark, the blind panic—it all blurred together. She had no idea where the bangle went.

Water thrashed around her as distant, muffled shouting came from the shore—then another splash. Someone else had jumped in.

Her skin felt like it was on fire, every inch stabbed with ice, the weight of the water pressing in.

Through the blur of water and panic, Zoe barely made out Connor rushing over.

He was yelling.

"Vicky! Vicky, are you okay?"

So Vicky had jumped in too. But... why?

Zoe didn't have time to figure it out.

Her fingers suddenly brushed something solid—round, smooth.

She grabbed it, heart pounding. It had to be the bangle.

With everything she had left, she kicked toward the surface.

Onshore, Connor dragged a soaked Vicky out of the water, barking for the butler to take her inside.

Vicky was coughing, gasping, trying to say something.

But Connor didn't answer. He just stood there, silent, eyes locked on the water, brows drawn tight.

The only sound cutting through the dark water was Zoe thrashing, struggling to stay up.

Connor froze. He knew—Zoe had never learned to swim.

As a kid, she'd fallen into a river once. He'd jumped in right after her, no hesitation.

She'd been terrified of water ever since. Wouldn't even go near a deep pond.

But tonight? Just to go head-to-head with Vicky over a bangle, she dove in like it meant everything.

Connor didn't get why he felt so on edge. He told himself it was just frustration—Zoe being her usual stubborn self.

It was just a bangle. Why couldn't she let Vicky have it?

Vicky was marrying into his family. That meant Zoe was still family, too.

It's not like Vicky would lock the thing away and never let her see it.

No—Zoe was just jealous. Jealous that Vicky had him now. That's why she always tried to take things from her.

The more he fed himself that story, the colder his expression turned.

Any hint of doubt disappeared as he watched Zoe flailing in the water.

He turned his back.

"Zoe, I hope this snaps you out of it," he said flatly. "Stop going at Vicky. Do that, and I'll treat you like I used to. Keep pushing, and I promise—it'll only get worse."

Then he walked away without a glance.

His words carried on the wind, brushing past Zoe's ears—but her mind couldn't even register them.

Connor thought the pond was shallow. No big deal.

What he didn't get was that for someone who couldn't swim, even knee-deep water could turn deadly.

In the dark, Zoe couldn't see the shore. Had no clue which way to go.

She kicked and flailed toward what she thought was land—but she wasn't moving. Not an inch.

The cold, murky water filled her mouth and nose.

Her limbs were giving out. Her body temperature tanked. Her right leg locked up, stiff and useless.

Connor's last words echoed in her head, colder than the water.

She opened her hand—just a metal ring. Probably from a bag.

Not the bangle. Not even close.

All the fight left her in a snap.

She'd been given a second shot at life... and she still hadn't done anything that mattered.

"Ms. Hertbert!"

Two splashes tore through the water. Someone grabbed her and hauled her back to shore.

It took a full fifteen minutes before Zoe's vision cleared.

She was in a car, dripping and dazed, staring at a group of strangers in all black.

Her voice came out raw. "Who are you?"

One of them handed her a folder. "Ms. Hertbert, our boss asked us to give you this. Please take a look."

She opened it under the dim car light—and froze.

Inside was a share transfer agreement. Five percent of Lyttelton Group.

And a full stack of documents returning every bit of Hertbert family property that had been sold off.

She looked up, stunned.

The man's tone was calm, but it carried the weight of someone else entirely.

"He also said—everything's set for the wedding in five days. He's just waiting on you."

Soaked and shivering from the cold night air, Zoe came down with a fever that knocked her out for three days.

Right as she started to bounce back, the nurse texted—

[Mr. Pierre Hertbert was awake.]

Her dad, finally out of that coma.

Zoe didn't know how to feel. The guy had cheated on her mom while she was pregnant, dragged Vicky—the other daughter—into their lives, and basically shattered everything. Her mom never recovered.

Yeah, Zoe would never forgive him for that.

Still, after her mom died, Pierre had sent Vicky away like he was trying to make things right. He kept her out of Zoe's world for years, and during that time? He spoiled Zoe like crazy.

Now, with her bags almost packed and Southport in the rearview, she figured she owed him one last visit.

***

The hospital room was quiet—but not empty.

Vicky stood by the bed, smirking down at Pierre like she owned the place. "Waiting for Zoe? Sucks for you. Pretty sure she's done wasting time on you."

Pierre, strapped to a ventilator, glared back, eyes burning. Couldn't speak. Couldn't stop her.

Vicky's voice went cold. "Your perfect little angel? She's been crawling after Connor like a total simp.

"Too bad. Even throwing herself at him didn't work."

She grinned. "We're getting married in two days. Bet Zoe's off crying her eyes out somewhere."

Then came the dagger. "Oh—Connor shoved her into a pool the other day. And she's terrified of water. No clue if anyone fished her out. She could already be dead."

Pierre's eyes went wide. He slammed his fists against the bed, the sound echoing off the walls.

The heart monitor screamed.

Didn't matter. Vicky had made sure no doctors were around.

She watched in silence, lips curled in victory, as Pierre's eyes slowly drifted shut.

Bang!

The door flew open. Zoe stormed in, breathless, and rushed to the bed.

One look at Pierre—not breathing—and her face crumpled.

She grabbed Vicky by the collar. "What did you do?! What did you say to him?! The nurse said he was fine this morning!"

Her voice cracked. Tears poured down her cheeks.

Vicky didn't flinch. The sweet-girl act she wore around Connor? Gone. All that was left was this eerie calm.

"You're crying over him?" Her voice was flat, almost confused. "He killed your mom. Did that not matter to you? What are you even crying for?"

"Shut up! You don't get to talk about my mom!" Zoe shouted. "No matter what he did, he was still my last family. And if he killed her, you're just as guilty! You helped him! Wasn't he your dad too? How could you—"

Vicky cut in, voice shaking. "He doesn't deserve to be called a father."

Her face twisted, and the words came out broken. "He forced himself on my mom. Got her pregnant, then made her keep it... When his wife died, he blamed us for everything.

"What did I do wrong? I didn't ask to be born!"

Zoe froze, everything spinning.

Zoe opened her mouth to say something, but Vicky's gaze slid past her.

In a flash, that hollow pain vanished—replaced by her usual helpless little act.

Behind her, Connor's voice cut through the room, low and cold. "Didn't I tell you to stay away from Vicky?"