Chapter 9 Maybe he knew and simply didn't care.

Elara's POV

Damian walked beside me, his tall frame blocking most of the sea breeze.

My emotions were a tangled mess.

I stopped and pushed the wheelchair behind a large rock formation.

The spot was sheltered from the wind, and sunlight still reached us here.

"Let's stop here," Vivian said softly.

She turned her head toward me, offering a weak but delicate smile.

"Thank you, Elara. You pushed very smoothly—I didn't feel any bumps at all."

I ignored her gratitude, released the handles, and stepped back two paces, shoving my hands back into my pockets.

Damian glanced at me, his brow furrowing slightly, as if my cold demeanor irritated him.

But he didn't say anything.

He simply bent down and adjusted the blanket across Vivian's lap.

"I'll get some warm water from the car," Damian said to Vivian, his voice softening.

"Okay," Vivian replied with an obedient nod.

Damian turned and headed toward the Maybach parked in the distance.

I stood in the shadow of the rock, watching the waves crash rhythmically against the shore.

Then, without warning, rapid footsteps sounded from the beach ahead.

Before I could process what was happening, Vivian's voice shot up, sharp and piercing, shattering the quiet.

"Caleb?!"

Vivian lurched upright in her wheelchair.

The pink seashell she'd been holding tumbled onto the sand and rolled several feet away.

Her face went ghostly pale as she whipped her head around, her voice trembling with panic.

"Damian!" She screamed toward his retreating figure, her voice cracking with terror.

"Caleb's gone!"

Vivian's scream tore through the stillness of the beach.

I followed her horrified gaze, and my heart seized in my chest.

Out on the gray-blue water, Caleb—who had been playing in the shallows moments ago—was now caught in the deep.

The California coast's rip currents were notoriously vicious.

A wave slammed into him and dragged him out more than thirty feet.

Only his small head remained visible, bobbing desperately in the churning surf.

"Caleb!"

Damian dropped the water bottle he'd been carrying and bolted toward the ocean like a predator unleashed.

He didn't even remove his jacket before charging into the water, ready to dive in.

Then Vivian let out a sharp cry of pain and tumbled out of her wheelchair.

"It hurts… Damian!" She collapsed onto the sand, clutching her ankle.

Crimson blood seeped between her fingers, staining the white sand beneath her.

She seemed to have stepped on a sharp piece of broken reef.

She grabbed Damian's pant leg with both hands, her eyes brimming with fragile tears.

"My foot—it's cut. It hurts so much. I can't stand up…"

Damian's steps halted abruptly.

He looked down at Vivian on the ground.

In that one second of hesitation, I stripped off my cardigan and plunged into the freezing water without a second thought.

I didn't care how Caleb had cursed at me that morning, or how much he hated me.

He was still the child I'd nearly bled out for on the operating table, the one I'd spent seven agonizing hours bringing into this world.

I couldn't just stand there and watch him die.

The ocean was ice-cold, instantly stealing the warmth from my body.

I swam hard toward Caleb.

He'd already swallowed several mouthfuls of seawater.

His face was deathly pale, his small arms flailing wildly above the surface.

"Caleb, don't be scared! Mommy's here!"

I reached him and tried to hook my arms under his from behind, but he latched onto me like a drowning animal.

For a four-year-old, the strength he summoned in his panic was shocking.

He wrapped himself around me—arms, legs, everything—and shoved me under the water with all his weight.

"Stop… Caleb, let go… I can't hold you up like this…"

Salty seawater flooded my nose and throat.

I'd been kept sheltered for five years as nothing more than a vessel.

I had no stamina for this kind of exertion.

My strength gave out quickly.

The heart in my chest—the one that had never truly been mine—began to pound erratically, sending sharp, tearing pain through my ribs.

I tried to pry his hands off my neck, but his grip was iron-tight.

Another wave crashed down on us, and I sank completely beneath the surface.

The suffocation was all-consuming.

I stared up at the distorted light filtering through the water as my body descended, my consciousness slipping away.

I thought, maybe this was justice.

I'd given birth to a son who hated me, all for a man who didn't love me.

And now I was going to die in front of them both, leaving this heart intact for the woman he actually wanted.

I wasn't ready to accept it.

Just as I thought I would drown in these California waters, a powerful force broke through the surface.

A rough, strong hand clamped around my arm.

Another hand wrenched Caleb off me with brutal efficiency.

The familiar scent of cold cedar mixed with the brine of the ocean surrounded me.

Damian locked one arm around my waist and hauled both of us—mother and son—out of the water.

Back on the beach, I collapsed onto the sand, coughing violently.

It felt like I was expelling everything inside me, bile included.

Every organ in my body screamed in pain.

Damian tossed Caleb to one of the bodyguards and then dropped to one knee beside me.

He was soaked through, his black shirt clinging to the hard lines of his body.

His ice-blue eyes were bloodshot, filled with something close to unhinged fury.

When he saw me lying there half-conscious, he grabbed my chin and forced my head back.

He pinched my nose shut, leaned down, and pressed his mouth to mine.

He was giving me CPR.

Air was forced into my lungs.

His movements were rough, urgent, and completely domineering.

His ragged breathing fanned across my face, and I could feel his hand trembling slightly.

I shoved hard against his chest and turned my head away, gasping for fresh air.

"Are you out of your mind?!" Damian bit out through clenched teeth, his voice hoarse and dangerous.

"Who told you to go in the water? Do you have any idea what that kind of strain does to your heart?!"

Of course. He was worried about Vivian's heart.

I didn't answer him.

I braced my hands against the sand and sat up.

Nearby, Caleb coughed up a few mouthfuls of seawater and recovered quickly.

He didn't even glance at me.

Instead, he wriggled free from the bodyguard's grip and stumbled over to Vivian.

He opened his right hand, which had been clenched into a fist the entire time.

In his palm was a rare purple scallop shell.

"Mommy Vivian, look! I went out to get this for you—that's why the water pulled me away!" Caleb held the shell out like a treasure, his voice still choked with tears but full of desperate eagerness to please.

"Don't cry. I'm not hurt."

Vivian pulled him into her arms, her eyes red-rimmed, her voice breaking.

"Caleb, you scared me to death. If something had happened to you, I don't know how I could've gone on…"

What a touching scene of maternal devotion.

I was soaked to the bone, shivering uncontrollably in the cold wind.

I looked at the child I'd nearly died saving, and the last flicker of warmth inside me went out completely.

Caleb turned his head and glared at me with pure venom.

"Nobody asked you to save me! You should've minded your own business! You hurt me in the water. You're a bad person!"

I stared into his hate-filled blue eyes and said nothing.

I just forced my stiff legs to move, walking step by step toward Vivian.

Vivian looked up at me, still maintaining that pitiful expression.

"Elara, thank you for saving Caleb. I hurt my foot just now and couldn't stop Damian, otherwise he would've been the first one to—"

I didn't let her finish.

I raised my hand and slapped her across the face with everything I had left.

The sharp sound of the slap echoed across the beach.

Everyone froze.

The black-suited bodyguards instinctively reached for their weapons, but with Damian present, none of them dared move.

Vivian's head snapped to the side.

Five bright red fingerprints bloomed across her pale cheek.

She clutched her face, staring at me in disbelief as tears streamed down her face.

"Elara! Have you lost your mind?!"

Damian shot to his feet and positioned himself in front of Vivian, his towering frame blocking her completely.

He stared down at me, his expression dark and murderous, the full weight of his authority as a mafia boss radiating from him like a physical force.

"Who the hell gave you permission to touch her?"

I looked at this man I'd loved for five years.

I looked at the way he shielded someone else.

And I smiled—cold, bitter, and laced with contempt.

"You're all the same. Heartless dogs, every single one of you."

I met his eyes, my voice quiet but cutting, crushing every ounce of the devotion I'd wasted on him over the past five years.

I should never have saved you on that beach.

I thought, if I hadn't interfered that day, maybe I never would've fallen for him.

Maybe I wouldn't have had to endure all this pain.

I turned to leave, but before I'd taken two steps, a brutal grip locked around my wrist.

The pressure was so intense I thought my bones might snap.

Damian yanked me back.

He stared at me, those cold, controlling blue eyes now churning with something violent and unreadable.

"What did you just say?"