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Chapter 707
Chapter 707:
Her Institute training was not the problem. The instantaneous cold had locked her diaphragm, stripping every reserve of oxygen from her body. And her heavy wool suit jacket, soaked through in seconds, transformed into dead weight, pulling her steadily toward the bottom of the deep pool. She clawed at the water with both hands, but the physics were merciless. Her lungs burned with a tearing, searing agony.
On the terrace, Belle stumbled backward and pressed both hands over her mouth, arranging her face into a mask of horror.
“Help! Someone help! She slipped!” Belle screamed toward the glass doors.
Behind the glass, Daron watched Isolde sink. A slow, satisfied smile touched his lips.
Then a guttural roar cut through the wind.
Maxwell had ended his call. He looked at the empty railing and the churning water.
He did not hesitate for a fraction of a second. He did not remove his suit jacket or his shoes. He sprinted across the stone deck and launched himself into the pool.
He hit the water with a massive impact. He opened his eyes in the stinging cold and saw Isolde sinking toward the bottom, her movements growing weak and uncoordinated.
Maxwell kicked hard. He reached her in two seconds, wrapped his arm tightly around her waist, and drove them both upward off the bottom of the pool.
𝗗𝗼𝘄𝗻𝗹𝗼𝗮𝗱 𝗣𝗗𝗙𝘀 𝗳𝗿𝗲𝗲 𝗼𝗻
They broke the surface.
“Breathe!” Maxwell roared, his voice rough with barely controlled panic. “Isolde, look at me! Breathe p>
Isolde gasped violently. She coughed up a lungful of water, her entire body convulsing in his arms, her face chalk white, her lips already turning a dangerous shade of blue. She gripped his wet shirt with both hands, her fingernails cutting into his shoulders.
Maxwell swam to the edge, seized the railing, and hauled Isolde up onto the stone deck before pulling himself out after her. He stripped off his soaking jacket and threw it aside, then shouted at a hotel security guard running onto the terrace to bring thermal blankets immediately.
Belle stood a few feet away, trembling visibly.
“I tried to grab her,” Belle wept, tears streaming down her face. “She just slipped. It was an accident p>
Maxwell turned his head slowly. Water ran from his hair into his eyes. His blue eyes had gone completely black. He rose to his feet and took one step toward Belle.
Belle shrieked and scrambled backward, her heel slipping on the wet stone. She went down hard, cowering where she fell.
Daron pushed past the security guard and walked onto the terrace, attempting to project the commanding authority of a man accustomed to controlling rooms.
“Calm down, Hayes,” Daron ordered, raising one hand. “It was clearly an accident. Do not make a scene p>
Maxwell said nothing. He pivoted on his heel, planted his left foot, and threw a devastating right hook directly into Daron’s face.
The crack of bone was sickeningly loud.
Daron’s eyes rolled back. The force of the blow lifted him off his feet. He crashed onto the stone deck and lay still, blood pooling immediately from his shattered jaw.
Maxwell stood over him. He raised a trembling finger toward Belle, who was sobbing hysterically on the ground.
“If her heart stops,” Maxwell said, his voice dropping to a quiet, demonic register, “I will hold both of you responsible p>