The moment Margaret Blackwood found out, she didn’t offer Amy Sinclair an ounce of sympathy. Instead, she berated her for overreacting, her words sharp and unrelenting.

Later, Alexander Blackwood managed to track down the person who had "accidentally" pushed Amy into the water at the party. But given that every guest at Margaret’s birthday celebration belonged to the elite circles closely tied to the Blackwoods, holding anyone accountable was impossible. All Amy could do was swallow their hollow apologies, her jaw clenched tight.

Nearly drowning wasn’t something a meaningless "sorry" could erase.

After Alexander forced them to delete the footage of Amy falling into the lake, the matter was swept under the rug. No one ever spoke of it again.

Amy’s fear of water had roots in her childhood—a boating accident with her mother that had left her traumatized. Growing up inland, surrounded by textbooks rather than oceans, she’d rarely encountered large bodies of water. Over time, the terror dulled, but the instinct to flee remained. She’d never learned to swim.

But after that night, it took Amy over six months to finally face her fear. In the end, she forced herself to learn.

Now, Nathan Prescott was sneering at her. "Amy, you jumped in on purpose, didn’t you? Just to get everyone’s attention?"

Amy lifted her chin, her expression unreadable. "You think I did it intentionally?"

Nathan arched a brow. "Oh, so you’re denying it? What’s next—are you going to claim Victoria pushed you?"

"That’s exactly what happened," Amy replied coolly.

Nathan’s face twisted with smug realization. Pointing at her, he declared, "Ah, I see now! You didn’t just jump in to cling to Alexander—you wanted to frame Victoria too. Two birds, one stone. Amy, you’re ruthless." He looked unbearably pleased with himself for uncovering this "brilliant" theory.

A cold gust swept past, making Amy shiver violently, her clothes still dripping. Alexander shrugged off his suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders. "Amy, Victoria would never do something like that. You must be mistaken."

Amy shot him an icy glare. "Don’t call me that. It makes my skin crawl."

Alexander frowned. "It’s cold. Let’s get you inside and changed. We’ll discuss this later."

Nathan chimed in, his voice dripping with mock concern. "She’s playing the victim just to get your sympathy. What a manipulative little—"

Amy tossed Alexander’s jacket aside like it was trash. Without a word, she turned and walked away.

Alexander exhaled, thinking she was finally backing down.

But instead of leaving, Amy strode straight to Victoria, grabbed a fistful of her hair, and yanked hard.

"Ah!" Victoria shrieked, her delicate facade crumbling as pain contorted her features.

Amy’s voice was glacial. "You asked if Alexander would ever blame you for anything. Here’s my answer—whether he does or not doesn’t matter to me. You wanted me dead? Let’s see how you like it."

With that, she kicked Victoria square in the stomach, sending her tumbling into the lake with a deafening splash.

The sound of the impact echoed across the lawn as Victoria flailed in the water, gasping and soaked.

Nathan gaped at Amy in outrage. "Have you lost your mind? You just threw her in!"

Amy couldn’t hold back any longer. She swung her arm and slapped Nathan hard across the face.

The sharp crack reverberated in the cold air. She’d wanted to do that for a long time.

Nathan staggered back, eyes wide with disbelief. He couldn’t fathom that Amy had just struck him—right in front of Alexander.

His head snapped toward the water, then back to Amy, his expression a mix of fury and shock.