Chapter 1

Just half an hour ago, Cynthia had handed her a folder with a sweet smile. "Father said this is a birthday surprise for you." Now, that surprise had become a death sentence. The crumpled DNA report in Haylee's hand snapped violently in the ocean wind.

She stood at the edge of the yacht's deck, the harsh salt air stinging her eyes. The paper felt like broken glass against her palm. Not a Bowen. The words on the page were a physical blow to her chest, stealing the air from her lungs.

The sharp, rhythmic click of stiletto heels against the wooden deck cut through the sound of the crashing waves.

Cynthia stepped out of the party's neon glow, a half-empty champagne flute in her hand. She blocked the only narrow walkway back to the cabin.

"Did you know?" Haylee's voice shook. The cold was seeping into her bones. "Did you plan this tonight?"

Cynthia let out a high-pitched laugh. It grated against the roar of the ocean. "Of course I did, Haylee. You really thought you belonged with us?"

Cynthia took a step closer. The smell of expensive perfume and alcohol hit Haylee's face.

"I'm taking the trust fund," Cynthia whispered, her voice dropping to a venomous hiss. "And I'm taking Dallin. He's already mine."

A surge of heat rushed to Haylee's head. Her stomach twisted into a tight knot. She raised her hand, a pure instinct to wipe the smug smile off Cynthia's face.

Before her palm could connect, Cynthia's hand shot out. Her grip on Haylee's wrist was like a steel vise.

Cynthia's eyes darkened. A terrifying shift in her expression happened in a fraction of a second.

With a sudden, violent shove, Cynthia pushed her backward.

Haylee's spine slammed against the low, rusted railing. A sickening crack echoed over the water. The metal gave way.

Gravity ripped her downward. Haylee reached out, her fingers desperately catching the fabric of Cynthia's dress.

The silk tore. Haylee plunged into the black Atlantic.

The freezing water swallowed her whole. The shock of the cold felt like a thousand needles piercing her skin. She opened her mouth to scream, but thick, salty water rushed down her throat, choking her.

Above her, the lights of the yacht sped away, shrinking into a distant blur.

Her lungs burned. The faces of her cold adoptive parents and her cheating fiancé flashed behind her eyelids. A raw, animalistic will to live exploded in her chest.

Her hands thrashed in the dark until her fingers scraped against rough wood. A broken life preserver board. She clung to it, her knuckles turning white, as the violent waves tossed her into the endless night.

Hours bled into a numb, freezing blur.

A heavy wave picked her up and slammed her face-first into coarse, wet sand. The friction scraped her cheek raw. The sharp pain forced her eyes open.

Haylee dragged her heavy, trembling body out of the surf. She was on an unfamiliar beach. A massive, unlit beachfront villa loomed in the distance.

Her teeth chattered violently. She dragged her bare feet through the sand, pushing open the heavy glass door of the villa.

The inside was pitch black. The air was thick with the smell of strong liquor and a strange, herbal scent that made her head spin.

She took a step forward. Her foot clipped a glass bottle on the rug.

It rolled across the floor with a loud clink.

A scorching hot hand shot out from the darkness. Long fingers wrapped around her ankle like an iron shackle.

Haylee screamed, but the sound was crushed back into her throat as she was yanked hard onto the thick wool rug.

A heavy, muscular body pinned her down. The man smelled of sweat and that dizzying herbal scent. His breathing was ragged, frantic.

"Stop!" Haylee gasped, thrashing wildly.

The man didn't listen. He moved with a manic, drug-fueled intensity, mistaking her for someone else. His hands were everywhere, pinning her wrists above her head.

Haylee fought with everything she had. She arched her back, thrashing wildly against his crushing weight. In the chaotic, terrifying struggle, his large hand roughly tore at the neckline of her wet dress. The fabric gave way with a sickening rip. A heavy, sharp metal cufflink on his sleeve caught the delicate skin just above her collarbone. The metal dragged violently downward. A searing, fiery pain sliced through her flesh, leaving a deep, bleeding gash. She gasped, the sharp sting grounding her in the nightmare.

He didn't flinch. His strength was overwhelming. The metallic scent of her own blood mixed with the heavy herbal aroma in the dark room.

Pain and humiliation washed over her, drowning her just as the ocean had.

When the storm finally broke, hours later, Haylee woke up to the sound of steady breathing. Her body ached with a dull, throbbing pain.

The moonlight barely pierced the room. She couldn't see his face. She didn't want to.

She scrambled backward, her hands shaking as she grabbed the torn pieces of her dress. Her elbow knocked against the nightstand.

A heavy, cold metal object rolled off the edge and hit her thigh.

Haylee grabbed it. A signet ring. She squeezed it in her fist, the sharp edges biting into her palm. Evidence.

She stumbled out of the glass doors, her legs shaking so badly she almost collapsed in the sand.

A bright spotlight swept across the dark water. An old fishing boat was chugging near the shoreline.

"Help!" Haylee screamed, her voice a raw, broken rasp. She waved her arms frantically.

A woman on the deck, Peggy McCoy, shouted something and threw a heavy rope ladder over the side.

Haylee climbed, her muscles screaming in agony. She collapsed onto the deck, the smell of dead fish filling her nose.

Peggy threw a scratchy wool blanket over her shivering shoulders.

Haylee pulled her knees to her chest. She opened her fist and stared at the heavy silver ring with its intricate crest.

The tears finally came, hot and fast, as the boat turned away from the island. The black silhouette of the villa faded, and Haylee let the darkness take her.