ISLA
I jerked my head out of the water, gasping for air as I shattered the still surface of the bathtub. My hair, heavy and slick with moisture, clung to my face and neck. My heart pounded as if it were trying to break free from my chest, each drumming beat echoing the terror of my recurring nightmare.
My body convulsed with violent shivers. The once-comforting bath water had gone lukewarm, and it was now a reminder of my ordeal—the almost-drowning, the betrayal. I clung to the edge of the tub, knuckles white, as I struggled to contain the flood of memories.
Those terrible, damning memories were the reason why I was trapped here, away from the life I used to know.
My hand groped blindly for the drain button, pressing it down with a shaky determination. The water, once inviting, now held the ghost of my fears, and I was eager to banish it.
“Enough,” I muttered, my voice echoing in the steam-filled bathroom.
As the water drained away, I uncurled from my defensive huddle, forcing my stiff muscles to obey. I reached for the oversized fluffy towel, pulling it around my shivering form like a protective cocoon.
I stepped onto the cool marble floor, letting the familiar luxury of my surroundings serve as a soothing balm against the turmoil of my thoughts.
The soft fabric enveloped me, offering a simple comfort that I clung to. “It’s okay, Isla,” I murmured to myself, making my way to the sink. I reached for a smaller towel, gently pressing it against my hair to soak up the excess water. “You’re okay.”
I had to keep moving forward. The past was just that. Past.
I had a new life now, a life that was carved for me.
A shimmer of movement caught my eye in the foggy mirror. A pair of amber eyes—so warm, so familiar—were staring back at me. The sharkman’s eyes. They always seemed to find a way into my thoughts—into my dreams—especially during the darkest of times.
A startled gasp tore from my lips, my heart slamming in my chest as the memory of those intelligent eyes gripped me, thrusting me back into the past.
Those were the eyes that had saved me that dreadful night, the eyes that brought hope when despair was my only companion.
I flinched back, squeezing my eyes shut as if that could shield me from the past. The soft fabric of the towel was still in my hand, and without thought, I used it to frantically wipe the mirror, erasing any remains of the phantom eyes.
When I dared to look again, it was my own face that stared back at me, my eyes red-rimmed and haunted. But I managed a weak smile, an affirmation of my own strength.
A small victory over the fears of my past.
I took a deep, steadying breath, gripping the edges of the sink until my knuckles turned white. Each exhale was a release, each inhale was a promise to myself. I was not the same person they had thrown into the ocean anymore.
I was safe.
Reaching for the towel again, I began to dab gently at my hair, using the small action as a way to ground myself in the present. Each pat of the soft fabric was a reminder that I was here, in the safety of my grandfather’s private research facility.
Each breath was a reassurance that I was alive, that I had survived.
Each day, I stepped further away from the wounds of the past and closer toward my future. A future that wouldn’t be marred by Sam and Rose’s unforgivable betrayal. They thought they could snuff me out, but they were wrong.
I was no longer the naive girl who had believed in their pretense of friendship, who had accepted Sam’s proposal with starry-eyed dreams of love. I was Isla, the survivor. The girl they thought they’d discarded but who had risen from the depths.
With my grandfather’s unyielding support and protection, I was safe and had been granted a second chance.
But the same could not be said for Sam and Rose.
For the last year, my grandfather had hunted them relentlessly, his vengeance as deep and unstoppable as the ocean’s currents. It had sparked a flame of revenge in my family, a fire that would burn until justice was served.
They’d made a grave mistake by crossing my family, by attempting to exploit our past ties and my innate goodness for their greedy machinations. I’d walked away from our engagement with grace, cutting them out of my life after discovering Rose in Sam’s bed. I had sought to move forward, to live free of their toxicity. But they hadn’t allowed that, had they? Their greed had led them to this, to a life of constant pursuit and impending retribution.
And the money…it was mine by right.
They had sought to use me, to manipulate my grandfather through me for their personal gain. But they would not succeed. I would ensure that.
As I stepped into my RoBo Changing Room, I studied my reflection, tracing a finger down the mirror’s surface.
