The Billionaire Who Killed Our Son Now Begs Me To Save His Daughter Chapter 10

The Billionaire Who Killed Our Son Now Begs Me To Save His Daughter Chapter 10

The weather turned. Wind swept across the sea, and all vessels were ordered to get the hell out.

Grant’s mother ship was the last to leave.

But his submersible never came back up.

The dive log showed he’d pushed past the rated limit of thirty-three hundred feet two hours ago. The last positioning signal put him at thirty-five hundred feet. Then it went dark for good.

The final transmission was his voice.

Static roared. Metal groaned and screamed over everything else. But I made out every word.

“Sylvie… Luke… Daddy’s here.”

Then the signal went dead.

I sat in the equipment bay, listening to the recording for a long time.

“Enough.”

Chase turned off the phone.

Three days later, the sea went calm.

I stood on the dock, watching them load the gear onto the boat one piece at a time.

“Syl, you sure about today?”

Chase pointed at the bandage on my arm.

“You’re hurt…”

“I’m good to go.”

He dropped it.

I pulled on my dive suit. Ran through the oxygen system and comms a few times. Then I climbed into the solo submersible that had been mine for eight years.

The hatch closed.

“Syl, comms check is good,” Chase’s voice came through my headset. “Ready when you are.”

“Go.”

The sub began its descent.

Two hundred feet.

Four hundred.

Six hundred.

The light faded slowly.

Below eight hundred feet, there was nothing but dark.

Just the front beam of the sub, cutting a small path through the deep blue into black.

Thirty-three hundred feet.

“Syl, thirty-three hundred feet. Pressure normal. Hull’s good.”

“Keep going.”

Thirty-six hundred feet. Finally, I saw the wreckage.

Metal fragments scattered across the bottom. Some flattened. Some twisted beyond recognition.

I guided the sub forward, avoiding a massive piece of titanium wreckage.

Then I saw it.

A crushed deep-sea vehicle hull. The silver Corbin Ocean Group logo was barely visible.

It rested against a rock wall at the bottom.

And directly beneath it… less than ten yards away… was another hull.

Older. More broken. A research submersible hull corroded by ten years in the salt.

My son’s sub.

Grant’s sub, on its final descent, had come to rest right next to where my son died.

They were together now.

Father and son. Both in the dark abyss.

“Syl?”

I hadn’t said anything for a long time. Chase’s voice came careful through the headset.

“You okay? Did you make it?”

“I’m here.”

I stared at the two wrecks side by side. The silence stretched on.

Then I powered up the manipulator arm. It was time to work.

First, my son’s sub. I used the arm to clear the sediment off the hull piece by piece. Carefully, I secured the lift lines.

Ten years. Ten years, I’d come down here more times than I can remember. Played out every scenario in my head of how I’d bring him back.

Today, I finally could.

Then Grant’s sub.

His hull was crushed, but the crew compartment was still intact.

I secured the lines. Checked the stress points.

“Chase, both targets are secure. Ready to lift.”

“Copy that. Lifting now.”

I guided the sub up, following the two wrecks as they rose.

The light came back little by little.

I couldn’t take my eyes off the two shapes hanging from the cables. One on the left. One on the right. One from ten years ago. One from three days ago.

One was my son. One was his father.

When we broke the surface, the sun hit my face like a punch. I had to squeeze them shut.

“Syl, I see them. They’re both up.”

I opened the hatch and climbed out onto the deck.

Chase stood next to me. He didn’t say a word.

I walked over and put my hand on the hull of my son’s sub.

“Luke.”

“Mommy’s bringing you home.”

Chase waited a long time before he spoke.

“Syl,” he finally said. “What about the other one?”

I turned around. Looked at the other wreck for a moment.

“Send it back to Liana. Where it belongs.”

Chase nodded.

I took one last look at the sea. The storm had passed. Nothing but quiet.

“Ten years, Luke.”

“It’s finally over. Today.”