Chapter 29 The cold water hits like knives, sharp, slicing, merciless. My lungs burn as I break the surface, coughing up seawater and gasping for breath. It hurts. It stings. Not just the water. Not just the impact. But the words. What he said. What he did. I'm so cold I can't think straight. I can't feel. I can't even scream. The waves drag me like some discarded toy, bobbing me up and down, crashing over my shoulders, yanking me under again, slamming me into jagged rocks, and then dragging me out just to do it all over again. But I fight. I swim. I've always been strong in the water, quick and graceful. The tide is high tonight, so it's easier to float, to surface. I push back against the pull of the sea, the waves breaking in the distance like applause for my survival. I can feel eyes on me, watching. But I can't see through the blur of salt and wind and desperation. I fight harder. I swim with everything I've got left in me, and after what feels like an eternity, but must be just minutes, I reach the shore. My fingers claw into wet sand like it's salvation. My whole body trembles violently. There's blood. Something's cut my leg, but I don't care. I'm alive. He pushed me. Seamus pushed me. The thought hits me like a second impact. The memory of his voice, those words, the chill in his eyes, colder than the ocean. How could I trust someone who would look me in the eye and then push me off a cliff? What if the sea had taken me for good? What if I had been pulled under and never surfaced? To my right, there's a blinking light, red and rhythmic. Some kind of beacon, a rescue maybe, but it doesn't move. Doesn't come closer. Is it even for me? I drag myself to my knees in the shallow surf. The water is fresher here, mixing with the tears I won't let fall. My hair is plastered to my face, soaked in salt. The wind howls like it's mourning. My thin dress clings to me like a second skin. Thankfully, it's light, unlike the jeans I wore earlier. Thank god, Seamus told me to change. The sky presses heavy above me, gray and angry. There's a silhouette on the rocky path above the beach. Watching. I freeze. Why isn't anyone helping me? I just survived being thrown from a cliff, swam to shore through god-knows-what, and nobody's moving. No one's running to help. I blink hard against the salt stinging my eyes. "Somebody help," I croak, my voice broken and raw. Still, no one moves. They just stand there. I double over and wretch again. A sob claws its way up my throat but never escapes. I sit back on my heels, numb and shaking. What do I do now? I can't go back up to Ballyhock. He left me. Discarded me like I was nothing. Was he told to kill me? Was that the plan all along? Then someone steps forward. My heart stutters. I don't want to be seen. I want to disappear, but I also want answers. I have to get out of here. I have to go home. But even that thought feels like a lie now. Is home even safe anymore? The figure steps closer, tall and calm. Too calm. Ashland. Shit. I freeze. My heart is beating in my throat. He raises a finger to his lips, Shhh, like I'm supposed to be quiet. Then he gestures for me to lie down in the sand. My instincts scream no. I don't move. I don't trust him. I don't trust anyone anymore, not even Seamus. Ashland pulls a gun. Cocks it. Points to the ground again. "Lie down," he whispers. I obey. My spine hits the wet sand. The wind steals the breath from my lungs. Ashland kneels beside me. His fingers reach for my neck. I slap at him, trying to shove him away. He bats my hands aside like they're nothing and pins my wrist to the ground. His fingers find my pulse point again. "Aye," he mutters, not looking at my eyes. "That's what I thought. No pulse." Wait-what? He pulls out a phone. Finger to his lips. When I don't move, he dials. "I've got her," he says, calm and flat, like a man commenting on the weather. His fingers trail down my neck. I shiver. "There's no pulse. Looks like she broke her neck." Oh my god. "She's gone." He's staging it. Faking my death. He's in on it. With Seamus? Then, without another word, he stands and disappears around the bend in the cliff. "Stay there," he says, like it's nothing. The second he's gone, everything changes. The silent watchers from before suddenly surge forward. Too fast. Too many. I scream, or try to. Hands clamp down on my mouth, my arms, my legs. I fight like hell. Kick, claw, bite. But it's no use. A gag goes across my mouth. A bag over my head. Darkness. I can't see them, but I can feel something-something about them is familiar. A smell. A breath. A whisper I half remember. They wrap me in a thick towel and carry me like I'm nothing. I'm shoved into the back of a car. I thrash and scream against the gag, but my body's still too weak. My adrenaline's raging, but it's not enough. Then I hear it. Russian. A familiar voice, rough and sure. The bag is pulled off my head. Relief hits me so fast it knocks the breath out of me. The driver turns. Our eyes meet in the rearview mirror. Matvei. My cousin. "Hold on, Zoya," he says, voice gravelly with emotion. "I'm sorry you had to go through this. You're okay. You're not safe yet, but will be." My teeth are chattering. "Wh-what happened?" I ask, shaking. I'm freezing even wrapped in the towel. Still wet. Still raw. He sighs. "I'll tell you everything. I've been working with Seamus." My eyes widen. "You know my parents fled after their betrayal, don't you?" I nod. "They've been plotting with Branson," Matvei continues. "And now it's time. Seamus is making his move to take the throne. The only way to do that... was to cut Branson out. For good." "My fucking god, is he going to apologize?" My voice cracks. "Apologize for breaking my heart? For pushing me off a fucking cliff?" Matvei's jaw tightens. "He'd better. He planned it all. He called me. I was already in town, waiting for this. The others are coming. I had to make sure they don't kill him." He sighs. My blood turns to ice. "So yeah," I mutter, "he'll be lucky if I don't get to him first." I feel it, the rage, the betrayal, and the wild, awful love still buried somewhere in me. Matvei's lips curl. "Attagirl," he says, proud. "I'm not joking!" "Oh, you'll love him again," he says softly. "You'll see. He feigned your death. Ash was in on it." "Ash, like you're best mates?" "Aw. Mates, like you're Irish already." "Of all the fucking⁠-' "And that dress," he says, nodding to me. "He made you wear that?" "Yes," I spit. "Said I looked pretty in it." "It's because it was light," Matvei says. "So you'd surface. He checked the tides too. Made sure they were high." I blink. "Did you see the Coast Guard?" "Yeah," he says, eyes dark. "He had four crews on standby. So no, there was no way he was gonna hurt you. He pushed you far enough to fall, but not enough to break anything. Not enough to risk anything, really." I'm speechless. "I waited on the shore," he finishes. "While Ashland reported your death to Branson." "So... Ashland's on Seamus's side?" "Yes," Matvei confirms. "They all are now." A Fated Encounter movie summary talks about Emma Brown who is forced by her father Henry to take her sister Bella's place and marry Tommy Anderson to save her business. Unlike the rumor Tommy turns ou...