Chapter 362

"I gave this to Vivian," Ethan murmured, his small fingers tracing the bracelet's delicate chain.

Alexander's piercing gaze locked onto the child before him. "Did you embed a tracker in this?" The question hung heavy in the air, met only with silence.

Ethan rose, staring at the lake's rippling surface—once calm, now fractured by the downpour. Raindrops mirrored the unshed tears in his eyes.

Then, without warning, Alexander shrugged off his coat and plunged into the dark waters.

Dusk bled into night.

The storm had passed, but the search raged on.

An early autumn chill gnawed at their soaked clothes, the wind carving icy fingers into their bones. Six hours had slipped by since Vivian's disappearance.

Victoria knew victory was hers.

Dozens of professional divers had scoured the depths. No trace. The lake had swallowed Vivian whole.

She stifled a smirk, itching to leave—until she caught Alexander's silhouette, motionless as a statue. The sight unnerved her.

"Alexander," she ventured, voice honeyed with false concern, "you're drenched. You'll catch pneumonia." Her fingers twitched toward his arm but recoiled at the glacial aura around him.

Those eyes—blacker than the lake at midnight—sliced through her. The same look he'd worn outside the ER when Evelyn Sinclair flatlined. A gaze that promised annihilation.

"Pray she's unharmed." His whisper carried the weight of a guillotine. "Or I'll bury her assailant beside her."

This was no bluff. His chest cavity yawned empty, a void screaming how much that missing woman meant.

Victoria's breath hitched. "It wasn't me! Ethan, how could you—" A sob cracked her voice. "You're five years old! Lying will rot your soul!"

Ethan regarded her with eerie calm. "I saw you push her."

"Lies!" Eleanor Kingsley wailed. "Victoria carried you for nine months! She'd never abandon you!"

"Mommy tried." The child's monotone cut deeper than any scream. "I ran. Then she pushed Vivian."

Alexander's head snapped up. "You abandoned him too?"

"No!" Victoria's denials tumbled out like dice. "He's confused! That witch poisoned his mind!"

"The liar isn't Ethan."

A voice, smooth as midnight silk, uncoiled from the darkness.

Alexander's dead pulse roared back to life. His head whipped toward the sound—and there she stood, poised as a queen reclaiming her throne.

"Vivian." Her name was a lifeline on his lips.

Moonlight sculpted her defiant features, reigniting the fire in his hollowed chest.

Victoria staggered back. The figure in Vivian's grip made her blood freeze.

Game over.