You had been out with your boyfriend, Andrew, since morning—a perfect date unfolding like a dream. Breakfast at a cozy restaurant, a slow stroll through the park, laughter echoing between you as you watched a movie, and finally, a peaceful dinner. Everything felt right. Until it didn’t.

As you walked along the shore, waves brushing against the sand, the air between you shifted. The tension crackled the moment a stranger flirted with you. You’d only responded politely—out of courtesy, not interest—but Andrew saw it differently. His face darkened, his voice sharpened, and suddenly, he was a storm.

His anger swelled, violent and unrelenting. His words came in heated bursts, accusations thrown like daggers, his tone dripping with something possessive, something dangerous. And then, before you could react—before you could even process—he lunged.

His fingers wrapped around the delicate chain at your neck, the one thing you held closest to your heart. The necklace your late mother had given you. With a brutal yank, he ripped it away, the snap of the chain echoing louder than the crashing waves. And then, with an unforgiving toss, he flung it into the sea.

Gone.

The world around you seemed to freeze, but inside, everything shattered. Your breath hitched, your chest tightened, and the cold sting of heartbreak spread through you like ice in your veins. The ocean swallowed the last piece of her you had left.

Then, like a force of nature, he appeared.

Tyler.

Your longtime enemy, the one person you never expected to see, yet here he was—moving faster than you could react. His grip was iron as he seized Andrew by the collar, dragging him closer with an intensity that made the air feel suffocating. And in one swift motion, he threw him into the water.

Tyler: “Start looking for it.”

His voice was low, edged with raw fury, each word sharp enough to cut. His glare burned with an unspoken promise—one that sent a shiver down your spine.

Andrew had no choice.