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Her heart plummeted, every instinct screamed for her to move, to swim, to hide—but where? If she came out of her hiding place, they’d spot her immediately.

The second figure slipped into the water with the smooth precision of someone who had done this a thousand times. They weren’t searching randomly; their eyes scanned with purpose, their spear guns at the ready.

Ellie felt the walls of the wreck close in around her as if it were a tomb.

She glanced at Luke, who already sensed the danger with sharp, assessing eyes. His hand had a knife in it now. She hadn’t known he was carrying one.

But as she crouched down there with him in their inadequate hiding place, her instincts screamed, her thoughts were tangled in suspicion. She replayed the argument they’d had earlier, his evasive explanations, the ease with which he described working with informants.

Her thoughts returned to the undeniable truth.They had to know where to find me. And the only person who could have told them was him.

The truth hit her like a cold current. He’s the mole. Every word he’d said, every move he’d made—it had all been a lie. Her chest tightened as a dark certainty took hold. He hadn’t just led them to her; he’d betrayed her in the most calculated way possible.

She thought she was leading him into a trap. And now, she was the one trapped. Alone, underwater, and at his mercy.

CHAPTER

THIRTEEN

Ellie pressedherself against the cold metal of the wreck. Her lungs burned from holding her breath, demanding a deeper breath she couldn’t risk taking too quickly. Her instincts told her she needed to preserve oxygen. She had no idea how long this confrontation might last, and her pressure gauge was dangerously close to zero five minutes ago.

The intruders swam toward the wreck. Their sleek forms cut through the water with predatory precision. Each carried a spear gun, their intentions as clear as the crystal waters of the Caribbean.

She glared at Luke, who remained unnervingly still beside her. The suspicion gnawed at her.

He led them here, didn’t he?

Of course, he did. No other explanation made sense.

Luke’s body was tense. He had a knife in his hand and looked prepared to defend her to the death. His actions felt both protective and threatening. He could easily turn that knife on her if she let her guard down. Which she didn’t intend to do.

She glanced at the approaching divers, then back to Luke. Her decision solidified. She couldn’t stay there. If she did, she’d be outnumbered against bigger, stronger foes who were betterand faster divers. Her heart pounded in her ears as she propelled herself away from the wreck, kicking with deliberate force to gain distance.

Luke reached for her, but she didn’t stop.

Is he trying to protect me or make sure I don’t escape?

Trusting him was no longer an option. He’d betrayed her, and now her life depended on getting away from him.

The sudden movement caught the attention of the closest diver. He veered toward her; his body cut through the turquoise depths like a shark on the hunt.

Ellie’s pulse spiked as she swam harder. Adrenaline flooded her system. She glanced over her shoulder to see him close the gap. He raised his spear gun and almost toyed with her as they both realized she had nowhere to hide.

She didn’t have a plan. Her options were limited. Perhaps on land, she might have a slight advantage, but she remembered there were three of them. More than likely, the third one was on the boat with a gun ready to shoot her as soon as she surfaced.

Ellie kicked harder as she tried to gain distance from the approaching diver. But her movements felt sluggish and awkward. The fins strapped to her feet made her legs heavier than she was used to. Every kick sent her off balance, forcing her to flail to steady herself.

Her arm shot out to grab a nearby rock for leverage, but her glove slipped on the slick surface. She grabbed at her knife strapped securely to her thigh, but just reaching for it felt like her hand moved too slowly. The resistance of the water made every motion feel like she was fighting through quicksand.

A burst of bubbles escaped her regulator as panic set in. She couldn’t afford to waste air, but her inexperience was costing her precious seconds. She tried to remember what her mother had said during her crash course:Stay calm, keep your movements controlled.Breathe slowly.

Calm? That was easy to say when no one was chasing you with a spear gun.

Her mind frantically searched for an escape route. She couldn’t outmaneuver them in the water—she wasn’t fast or skilled enough. She’d have to outthink them instead.

She reached shallower water and dove into a patch of coral, the jagged formations offering a semblance of cover. Spotting a chunk of broken coral, she grabbed it, the rough surface scraped her palm even through her glove. With a knife in one hand and the coral in the other, she felt confident that it gave her a fighting chance.

The diver was almost upon her. She could see his face now, behind the dark visor of his mask. Once he got within range, he aimed the spear gun directly at her.