1 Zoe, Adrian’s mistress, spun a twisted tale: that my daughter Annie, born with a lucky star, had stolen the very breath from her own child's lungs. The next day, my seven-year-old Annie was forced to take Zoe’s place in a game of Russian Roulette. I dropped to my knees, begging them to spare my daughter’s life. But Adrian just sneered. "She's got luck on her side, anyway. What's the big deal if it makes Zoe feel better?" he said, his voice cold. "If Zoe's happy, she won't be giving me a hard time." I could only watch in horror as Zoe placed the bet: one hundred million dollars. A million for every pull of the trigger. One hundred shots. Lady Luck only smiled on my Annie thirty-six times. On the thirty-seventh, a bullet tore through her head. But Adrian hadn't even stayed to watch. By the seventh click of the empty chamber, he had already swept Zoe into his arms and carried her off to their suite. My screams were torn from my throat, a raw, primal sound that he later told me had served as his aphrodisiac. When he finally emerged, flushed and satisfied, he sauntered over and patted my cheek. "You know, your crying... it sounded so real. It was a real turn-on," he praised. "Relax. The gun was never loaded. It was just a show for Zoe. A way for her to get some closure." ... Zoe’s child and my Annie had been in the same hospital, both critically ill. My Annie survived. Her daughter did not. Ever since, she'd clung to the insane delusion that my daughter’s good fortune had somehow siphoned the life from her child. "If your daughter hadn't sucked all the good luck out of the room, my son would be alive!" Zoe would shriek. Adrian said nothing, but the next day, Annie was on that yacht, a sacrifice in a sick game. By the time I arrived, she was already strapped to a large, rotating wheel, her small body spread-eagled. To keep her from struggling, heavy-duty restraints bound her wrists, ankles, and neck. When she saw me, her voice, already raw from crying, cracked. "Mommy, help me! Mommy, I'm not a jinx, I'm not!" My Annie, who was always so careful about her appearance, was so terrified she couldn’t stop hiccuping. And her father, Adrian, watched as if the child on that wheel were a stranger, his expression a mask of indifference. My heart shattered into a million pieces. I surged forward to free her, but Adrian’s security guards blocked my path, their arms like steel bars. "Adrian! Are you insane? That's your daughter!" I lunged, my fingers twisting in the fabric of his expensive collar as I screamed in his face. He shoved me away without a second thought, his arm instantly wrapping around Zoe’s waist, pulling her close. "Marissa, you're the one who chose that hospital. You're the one whose daughter drained the life from Zoe's child. You both owe them this!" Then he turned to Zoe, his voice melting into a tender murmur. "Zoe, my love. Tonight is all about you." Zoe shot me a triumphant smirk over his shoulder. I stared at the man before me, a stranger wearing my husband's face. Just then, a crew member approached with a set of numbered paddles and a revolver. Zoe picked up a paddle, her movements light and airy. "I imagine Mrs. Lacy isn't familiar with this little game, is she? It's not your typical Russian Roulette. See, there's only one bullet in the chamber, but you get a million dollars every time you pull the trigger on an empty slot. And there's no limit to how many times you can play." She purred, her eyes glinting. "I wonder just how much money Annie's famous luck can make for Adrian tonight." She lifted the paddle marked '6' and kissed it. A revolver holds six rounds. Logically, if the first five shots were blanks, the sixth was a guaranteed kill. My daughter’s luck wasn't an infinite shield. A chilling dread washed over me. I looked to Adrian, my eyes pleading, but he refused to meet my gaze. Zoe’s voice dripped with malice. "Tell you what, Mrs. Lacy. If you kneel down right now, slap your own face, and scream 'I'm a homewrecker,' I might just consider letting your daughter go." Adrian said nothing. His silence was his consent. My eyes found my daughter, small and terrified on that wheel. I didn't hesitate. The cold deck met my knees. Fearing Zoe would find some excuse to back out, I struck myself hard, the force splitting my lip. Blood filled my mouth. "I'm a homewrecker! I'm a homewrecker! I'm a homewrecker!" The whispers and stares of the other guests were a sharper pain than the sting on my cheek. In that moment, Zoe looked more like the lady of the house than I ever had. Zoe laughed, a bright, cruel sound. "To think the high and mighty Marissa Lacy could look so pathetic." She paused, savoring the moment. "Fine. I forgive you." A flicker of hope ignited in my chest. "I forgive you," she continued, her smile widening, "but my son can never forgive Annie." "So..." "I'll bet one hundred million!" From heaven to hell in a single breath. A hundred million. One hundred pulls of the trigger. My Annie, my poor Annie... BANG! The deafening roar of the gun snapped me back to reality. A man in a black suit stood with the revolver, its barrel still smoking, pointed at my daughter. Annie was too scared to even cry anymore. "Adrian! Zoe! You're monsters! Animals!" I thrashed against the guards holding me down, desperate to reach her. Zoe dissolved into tears, burying her face in Adrian's chest like a frightened child. "Oh, darling, it's so loud! I'm so scared!" Adrian's face hardened into a granite mask. He snatched the gun from the crewman and, without a word, aimed it at Annie and fired five more times in quick succession. "NO! ANNIE!" I screamed, my eyes locked on her. She was still alive. By some impossible miracle, her luck had held. The sixth chamber had been empty. My vision swam with black spots. I gasped for air, my mind racing, searching for a way—any way—to save my child. "You're so good to me, darling," Zoe cooed, pressing a kiss to Adrian’s lips, her hands roaming over his chest. A flicker of raw lust crossed his face. He scooped her into his arms, ready to leave. But after two steps, he paused and looked back over his shoulder. "See that all one hundred shots are fired," he commanded the crew. "I want to see just how lucky my daughter really is. Let's find out if she's really some kind of monster who feeds on the fortune of others." Annie heard him. The light in her eyes, already dim, flickered and died. She understood. Her own father wanted her dead. Yet, she managed a weak, trembling smile for me. "Don't cry, Mommy. Even if Annie dies, you have to keep living, okay?" She closed her eyes, surrendering to her fate. The cold-blooded executioner resumed his task. Click. The 7th shot. Click. The 8th. Click. The 9th... Each empty click was a hammer blow against my heart. But I couldn't look away. I couldn't let my daughter think I had abandoned her too. I begged them. I kowtowed until my forehead was bloody. I promised them fortunes. Finally, my pathetic, broken state earned me a sliver of pity from one of the crew. "Ma'am, the yacht is in international waters now. No one can stop this unless Mr. Lacy gives the order. We don't want to end up as shark food." I knew it was hopeless, but it was my only chance. Annie, hold on. Mommy will save you. My limbs felt like lead, but I crawled, inch by agonizing inch, to the top deck, to their suite. As I neared the door, I could hear the obscene sounds from within. "You're such a little devil..." My daughter was facing a firing squad, and her father was indulging in his sordid pleasures. I beat on the door with my fists. "Adrian, I was wrong! I'll sign the divorce papers! Just let Annie go! Please, you're going to kill her!" The noises inside paused for a second. "What are you making a scene for? Annie's not going to..." His voice was swallowed by the sickening, wet sounds that followed. "Adrian, darling," I heard Zoe's sultry whisper through the door. "Your wife is so desperate to see you, she's even offering a divorce. It's actually kind of thrilling, isn't it? Your wife begging outside while your true love is in your arms." Her words were answered by the rhythmic, brutal slam of bodies against the headboard. I threw my own body against the door, screaming apologies to Zoe, but my desperation only seemed to fuel their passion. The sounds from within grew louder, more frenzied. My despair was their stimulant. When I stumbled back to the lower deck, a crewman looked at me with a flicker of pity in his eyes. He told me they had just fired the 32nd shot. They had slowed down as much as they dared. Annie’s eyes had been closed, but she opened them when she heard my footsteps. A sad understanding dawned on her face. Tears welled in her eyes. "Mommy, being your daughter... that was the real luck. The best luck I ever had." BANG! The 33rd shot. "Mommy, when I'm gone, you have to divorce him. I know you only stayed with him for me... but he's not a good man." BANG! BANG! The 34th and 35th. "I'm only seven... but these seven years with you, Mommy... they were the happiest." BANG! The 36th. She seemed to sense it was coming. She glanced at the revolver, its barrel now glowing faintly red from the repeated firings. "Mommy." "I want to go home." "I love you." "Next time... I want to be your little girl again." BANG! The 37th shot. This time, Lady Luck turned away and wept for the child she could no longer protect. A single, deafening crack. I thought I would scream. I thought I would faint from the pain. But I did nothing. I felt nothing. It was as if my soul had been ripped from my body, leaving an empty, silent void. The long torture was over. They finally unstrapped Annie's body from the wheel. My vision began to fade to black. The last thing I saw was a splash of crimson spreading across the floor as her small, limp body was laid on the cold deck. No one would ever call me 'Mommy' in that sweet voice again. The little girl who always said, "If you and Daddy divorce, I'll choose you, Mommy," was gone. The shock was too much. My world didn't just go silent; it went dark. I had gone blind. I don't know how long I stood there, or how I managed to carry Annie’s body back to our cabin, sightless. I carefully, fumblingly, wiped her clean and dressed her in her favorite dress. My Annie, always so neat, so beautiful. I avoided touching her head. I held her cooling, stiffening body in my arms. I held her for a long, long time. Then, a thought broke through the fog. "Divorce," I murmured. "Go home. We have to go home." My phone was gone. I found a crew member and had them print a copy of a divorce agreement for me. I felt the thin stack of papers. All this time, I refused to sign, wanting to give Annie a complete family. And that refusal had killed her. I would take my Annie home. I wanted nothing more to do with that disgusting animal. As for revenge... I bowed my head, and a cold plan began to form. A crew member led me back to Adrian's suite. The door swung open just as we arrived. The cloying, acrid smell of sex rolled out in a wave. Even the crew member took a hasty step back. I didn't need eyes to imagine the depravity that had taken place. Adrian's voice, thick with satisfaction, floated out. "You know, your crying last night... it sounded so real. It was a real turn-on. And don't worry, the gun was never loaded. It was just a show for Zoe." His words ignited the dead embers of my heart into a raging inferno. I raised my hand and, guessing his position, swung with all my might. CRACK! The force of the blow sent a numbing jolt up my arm. "Adrian! Annie is dead! You killed her! Her own father killed her!" In my rage, I didn't realize I had struck Zoe, who had been standing in the doorway. "Ma'am, I... I was just so heartbroken about my own son... I only wanted to scare her a little! I never meant to kill her!" Zoe wailed. Adrian’s hands closed around my throat, squeezing. "Do you really think I'd fall for such a pathetic act?" he snarled, his voice dangerously low. "There were no bullets in that gun. Zoe just wanted to give her son's spirit some peace. Are you using our daughter to play games, to fight for my attention? Look at yourself! Have you no shame?" The more he spoke, the more convinced he became, any flicker of doubt extinguished by his own rage. "Tie her up," he commanded his men. "And hang her off the back of the yacht. Let the sea cool her head." A rope was crudely tied around me, and I was thrown into the deep, dark ocean. The icy shock of the water was so cold it felt like a thousand needles stabbing my skin. The yacht's wake crashed over me again and again, dragging me under, choking me. Even as I clamped my mouth shut, the salty, bitter water forced its way down my throat. And in that moment of agony, a memory surfaced. Years ago, when I was learning to swim, I accidentally swallowed a mouthful of water. He had panicked, pulling me from the pool with tears in his eyes, forbidding me from ever trying again. But that memory, like the foam on the waves, was fragile and fleeting. It vanished instantly. He had murdered our daughter to please his mistress. And because I'd slapped her, he was now trying to drown me to appease her. My body temperature plummeted. Just as I felt the last of my consciousness slipping away, I was hauled back onto the deck. A crew member handed me a towel and a cup of hot water. "Mr. Lacy is putting on a fireworks display for Miss Zoe all night," he said quietly. "A deMarissation of his love." I felt nothing. If Adrian dropped dead in front of me right then, I might have laughed. I had them print a new divorce agreement and send it to him. I hadn't even had the chance to get his signature before he'd had me thrown overboard. Once feeling returned to my limbs, I stumbled back to my cabin. I began speaking into the empty room, as if Annie were still there. "Annie, Mommy's back. Sorry I took so long. You're not mad at me, are you?" "Annie, I heard everything you said. As soon as he signs, we'll get off at the next port. I'll take you home." My hands reached for the center of the bed where I'd left her. I froze. It was empty. Annie's body was gone. A frantic, primal fear seized me. I tore the room apart before summoning the ship's purser. The purser glanced around nervously, then lowered his voice. "Ma'am... Miss Zoe had your daughter's body taken away a little while ago. She said... she said she was going to sell her organs to buy a few new handbags. I tried to call you, but I couldn't get through." I grabbed the wall to keep from collapsing. Of course he couldn't reach me. At that moment, I was being dragged through the ocean by my own husband. Zoe wouldn't even leave my daughter's body in peace. The purser left me standing alone in the silent room. The thought of Annie's small body being cut into pieces sent a wave of nausea through me. A hot, coppery taste filled my throat. "Well, if it isn't the grieving Mrs. Lacy." It was Zoe. She stepped close, taking my hand and placing it on the supple leather of a new designer bag. Her voice was as soft as silk, but her words were laced with venom. "Annie was worth quite a bit, you know. I was finally able to buy this limited edition piece. Paid in full." She leaned in, her breath hot against my ear. "This is your fault, Marissa. You wouldn't sign the divorce papers. You're a washed-up hag, but you just had to cling to Adrian, using your daughter as an excuse. So I had to get her out of the way. She was blocking my path to a life of luxury." Her words were daggers, twisting in my heart, gutting me. What else did I have to fear? I had nothing left. I coughed, and a spray of blood splattered onto the floor. A strange lightness filled me, a surge of adrenaline and pure, unadulterated rage. I launched myself at her, my hands, my teeth, my nails becoming weapons. Her screams were music to my ears. "Give me back my Annie! GIVE HER BACK!" "Zoe!" Adrian rushed into the room. He yanked me off her and slapped me across the face. Zoe collapsed into his arms, sobbing. "Adrian, I was just worried about her! I came to see if she was okay, and she tried to kill me!" I stumbled, my hands flailing in the darkness. The purser caught my arm, steadying me. "Take me to Annie," I begged him, my voice a broken whisper. "I'll give you anything." It was only then that Adrian noticed my vacant, unfocused eyes. He saw that I was blind. A thick, suffocating unease enveloped him. Why was Marissa suddenly blind? And where was Annie? "Darling," Zoe whimpered, "is she going to start saying Annie's dead again? I just saw her playing on the deck today." Adrian shook the absurd, terrifying thought from his head. He pulled out the divorce papers, scrawled his name across the bottom, and threw them at me. "Keep up the act. Just keep it up. I have never seen such an unfit mother. You keep saying your daughter is dead, aren't you afraid you'll actually curse her to death?" "You are not worthy of being my wife!" He held Zoe and walked out. I made a phone call. I liquidated all my assets, my shares in his company, and made several other arrangements. I gave every last dollar, every piece of jewelry I owned, to the purser. In return, he gave me a small, heavy box. An urn. I stood on the deck, the signed divorce papers in one hand and the urn in the other. Adrian was hosting a grand banquet, so the deck was deserted. "Annie," I whispered to the box, "Mommy is useless. I can't take you home." "Annie... next time, I'll be your mommy again." As a kaleidoscope of fireworks exploded across the night sky, I clutched the urn to my chest and stepped off the edge, into the cold, dark sea. Adrian Lacy, may we never meet again, in this life or the next.
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