"You shameless little homewrecker. You think you can ruin our goddess's happiness? We'll kill you for that."
They ripped the spear from my hands and knocked my phone to the deck.
They shoved me down against the wet, freezing hull of the boat.
In the pit of my despair, a blinding white light cut through the darkness from somewhere in the distance.
A motorboat came tearing across the water.
"Don't you touch her!"
It wasn't Anthony.
It was a group of tourists night-fishing nearby. One of them had been messing around with a pair of binoculars and spotted what was happening to me. He rallied his friends immediately.
They hauled the two men to the nearest police station.
By the time I finished giving my statement, the sun was already up.
I thanked them and headed straight for the airport. I didn't want to spend another second in this place.
But while I was waiting for a cab, Anthony's bodyguards closed in around me.
The one in charge was Wyatt Whitney.
"Anthony's hosting a private dinner at his villa tonight for some big-shot director. He's trying to land Bianca the female lead in the guy's next film."
"He says if you want this deal to go through, you need to be there. So let's go."
My first thought was that Anthony had found out who I really was.
But one look at the contempt on Wyatt's face told me otherwise.
I frowned.
"I'm not going. Move."
Wyatt shoved me hard. My phone hit the ground and he crushed it under his heel, grinding it to pieces.
"Vivienne, you're a glorified coffee girl. Who the hell do you think you're talking to? I used to call you 'ma'am' out of respect for Anthony. Without him, you're nothing. You actually thought you were some rich man's wife?" He jerked his chin at his men. "Quit wasting my time. Take her."
When we arrived at the villa, I realized this was an extremely private affair.
No press. Every guest had to surrender their phone at the door.
The men in attendance were mostly wealthy businessmen of one stripe or another. Each had a young starlet seated beside him, all of them friends of Anthony's or Bianca's.
A bad feeling settled low in my stomach.
Anthony walked over the moment he saw me, his brow creased.
"Heard you were heading to the airport. Looking like a drowned rat, too. Where exactly did you think you were going?"
My expression stayed flat.
"Home to see my grandfather. Is that a problem?"
The corner of his mouth curled, as if he'd expected exactly this.