Chapter 73
Chapter 73:
A toxic, burning acid of jealousy flooded his veins, eating away at his logic, eating away at his sanity. He squeezed the metal binoculars until the joints creaked. He is touching her, Cole thought, his mind spiraling. He is taking advantage of her pain. He is a predator. He blocked out entirely the fact that he was the one who had left her bleeding on the floor.
Julian came up the metal stairs to the top deck holding two glasses of whiskey. He took one look at Cole staring through the binoculars and let out a dry laugh. “If you care so much about your little trophy wife, why did you play blind in the restaurant? You just let her burn p>
The words found a raw nerve.
Cole ripped the binoculars from his face. He lunged forward and grabbed Julian by the collar of his expensive shirt. “Shut your mouth,” Cole snarled, his eyes bloodshot. “I don’t care about her. I’m just making sure she doesn’t drag the Compton name through the mud with her cheap affairs p>
Julian raised both hands in surrender, spilling whiskey across the deck, and pulled himself free from Cole’s grip. “Right,” he sneered. “You don’t care. That’s why you look like you want to murder someone p>
Cole snatched the glass from Julian’s hand and threw his head back, swallowing the burning alcohol in one go. It did nothing to stop the trembling in his hands.
Inside the clinic, Silas finished applying the bandages. He picked up a clean, oversized white button-down shirt from the nurse and carefully helped June sit upright, draping the shirt over her shoulders and making sure the fabric didn’t pull against the burns.
June looked up at him, her eyes exhausted. “Thank you, Silas p>
𝗕е 𝗉𝘢𝗿𝘵 𝗼𝘧 o𝗎𝘳 𝘤о𝗆𝘮𝗎𝗻𝘪tу 𝗈𝗇 𝗀𝖺ln𝗈𝗏е𝗹𝘀.сo𝘮
Silas smiled softly and reached out to give the top of her head a gentle pat. A simple, quiet gesture of comfort.
On the yacht, Cole had raised the binoculars again. He saw the head pat.
The last thread of his control snapped.
He let out a guttural yell and slammed the Zeiss binoculars down onto the fiberglass deck. The heavy glass lenses shattered into a hundred pieces. He spun around and marched toward the stairs. “Tell the captain to start the engines. We’re going back to the dock. Now p>
Down below, in the luxurious master cabin, Alycia sat on a velvet sofa. Her ankle was perfectly fine.
She scrolled through her phone’s photo gallery and stopped on a picture she had taken an hour earlier on the deck, just before Cole began his vigil with the binoculars. In it, Cole was leaning his face close to hers, trying to hear her over the wind. The angle made it look as though he were kissing her forehead. The sunset blazed over the ocean behind them.
Alycia smiled — wicked, triumphant.
She opened Instagram, attached the location tag — Emerald Cove Private Yacht — and typed the caption: My forever safe harbor.
She hit post.
She knew the algorithm. She knew June’s colleagues followed her account. She knew June would see it. It was the final nail in the coffin.
The clinic resting room was quiet. The heavy dose of painkillers was finally taking hold, dulling the fire on June’s back to a deep, throbbing ache.
She sat on the edge of the leather sofa, wearing Silas’s oversized white shirt.