Chapter 3 - The Flight to the Dock
The yacht was suddenly alive with panicked commotion as guests rushed to the stern rails, their cries of horror mingling with the wind.
Arthur held Chloe securely with one arm, using his powerful sidestroke to navigate through the gentle swell toward the island's shallow sandy shoreline.
The swim platform sat barely twenty feet from the powdered white sands of Vance Cay, where the turquoise shallows met the edge of the palm grove.
Every muscle in Arthur's back burned with adrenaline, his soaked clothes weighing him down, but his grip on his trembling daughter never faltered for an instant.
Beside the main dock, the warm ocean water grew shallow enough for his waterlogged leather shoes to find traction on the soft seabed.
He lifted Chloe out of the deeper brine, supporting her waist and upper body as they stumbled through the knee-deep surf toward the beach.
Chloe's pale-blue dress clung to her shivering frame, her green eyes wide and glossy with the residue of near-drowning shock and sheer disbelief.
She coughed hard into his chest, her knees buckling in the wet sand before Arthur scooped her up and helped her find her footing on dry land.
"Breathe, Chloe, look at me, you're safe now," Arthur whispered hoarsely, his wet salt-and-pepper hair plastered across his furrowed forehead.
Chloe wiped the stinging water from her eyes with a shaking hand, her chest heaving as she fought to draw the warm coastal air into her lungs.
Her gaze suddenly locked onto the wooden private dock extending past the yacht's bow, and all the color drained from her already pale face.
There, darting along the sunlit planks with her beige high heels clicking frantically, was Victoria, clutching the hem of her crimson gown to run faster.
Victoria had already abandoned the party, abandoning all pretense of innocence as she sprinted toward a sleek white luxury speedboat moored at slip number two.
The powerful vessel was idling softly, its twin five-hundred-horsepower outboard engines already rumbling in anticipation of an immediate departure.
Chloe raised a trembling, sunburnt arm, pointing her finger with urgent, terrifying clarity directly at the fleeing woman on the wooden pier.
"Dad! She's escaping!" Chloe cried, her voice cracking with raw panic as she clutched Arthur's soaked linen sleeve with both hands.
Arthur's gaze snapped toward the dock, his jaw clenching so hard that the muscles beneath his tanned skin rippled like iron bands.
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Victoria reached the stern of the white speedboat, leapt aboard without looking back, and slammed her hand onto the electronic ignition panel.
The outboard motors roared to life with an aggressive, deafening growl that tore across the calm water of the secluded private lagoon.
