The Honeymoon Murder

Chapter 1: Arrival at Azure Cove Resort

The drive along the coastal road wound like a ribbon between cliffs and sea, the late afternoon sun turning the waters into a sheet of molten gold. Victoria leaned her forehead against the window, watching the play of light across the waves. The air was thick with salt and the scent of distant hibiscus. This was it-the beginning of their life together. A honeymoon meant to be perfect, untouched by the world they had left behind.

Beside her, Daniel's fingers drummed absently against the steering wheel. A small, restless movement, barely noticeable, yet persistent. Victoria turned her head slightly, observing him in the fading light. He hadn't spoken much during the last stretch of the drive. Was it exhaustion? He had insisted on renting the car himself, refusing the resort's offer of a private transfer. The isolation of the route, the near-deserted beaches they had passed-had that been deliberate?

She reached for his hand, squeezing gently. "We're almost there."

He forced a smile, eyes darting to the road ahead. "Yeah. Almost."

The first glimpse of the Azure Cove Resort was something out of a dream. The colonial-style mansion stood atop a slope, flanked by towering palms that rustled in the evening breeze. Its white stucco walls glowed in the dying sunlight, the wrap-around balconies adorned with cascading bougainvillea. Below, a private beach stretched toward the horizon, the waves rolling in with slow, rhythmic persistence.

A uniformed attendant stepped forward as their car pulled up to the entrance. "Welcome to Azure Cove," he said, smiling as he opened the door for Victoria. She stepped out, stretching, the warmth of the evening settling over her like a soft shawl.

The lobby was grand, its high ceilings supported by dark mahogany beams, the floor polished to a mirror shine. A faint scent of citrus lingered in the air, mingling with fresh flowers arranged in towering vases. A place designed for indulgence, for escape.

Daniel walked to the reception desk, handing over their documents. Victoria let her fingers drift across the cool marble of the counter, observing the woman behind the desk. She was polite, excessively so, her smile practiced. Every movement seemed rehearsed, controlled, as if she had been trained to exude a sense of welcome that was just slightly too perfect.

"Mr. and Mrs. Hale," she said, glancing at the screen in front of her. "We have your suite prepared. The corner balcony has the best view of the ocean. I believe you'll find it quite... private."

Something about the pause before the last word made Victoria glance at Daniel. He was staring down at the ledger, jaw tight.

Their suite was at the far end of the east wing, away from the main pool and dining areas. The bellhop carried their luggage up, moving with the quiet efficiency expected of places like this. The hallways were hushed, lined with cream-colored walls and deep blue carpeting, evoking the stillness of the ocean.

Victoria stepped onto the balcony the moment they entered the room. The view was stunning, a full panorama of the infinity pool stretching towards the sea, the water blending seamlessly with the horizon. She let out a soft sigh, letting herself drink in the sight. The quiet lapping of the waves. The distant call of seabirds. The air heavy with the scent of salt and something sweet-jasmine, maybe?

She turned back to Daniel, expecting him to join her. Instead, he stood at the window, his hands braced against the frame, staring down at the pool.

"I still can't believe we're married," she said softly, hoping to lighten his mood.

He turned, forcing another smile. "Yeah. Crazy, isn't it?"

There was a time when such a response would have made her laugh. But tonight, it felt... off.

Dinner was set in the open-air pavilion, lanterns flickering in the breeze. The guests were scattered-several couples, a group of women chatting animatedly over glasses of wine, an older gentleman dining alone. A quiet elegance lingered in the air, the type found in places meant to be expensive but never ostentatious.

Victoria reached for her glass, letting the crisp white wine settle on her tongue. Across the table, Daniel was looking over the menu, but he wasn't reading. His fingers were tapping again, restless against the linen.

She was about to ask if something was wrong when a voice drifted through the air, unmistakably familiar, yet completely unexpected.

"Well, this is a surprise."

Daniel's body stiffened.

Victoria turned. And there she was.

Emily Carter.

Stunning. Poised. The kind of beauty that held a certain effortlessness, as if the world had never required her to try too hard. Her long auburn hair framed a face that was both striking and sharp, her eyes glinting with something unreadable.

She was alone. But there was no trace of discomfort in her stance. If anything, she looked... amused.

"Emily," Daniel said, his voice just a fraction too tight. "Didn't expect to see you here."

Victoria glanced between them. She could feel it-a tension thick as the humid air.

Emily smiled, taking a sip from the glass in her hand before setting it down with deliberate ease. "Funny how life brings people back together, isn't it?"

A waiter appeared at her side, but she barely acknowledged him. Her focus remained on Daniel, the faintest flicker of satisfaction playing at the corners of her lips.

Victoria's fingers tightened around her napkin.

There was something in Emily's gaze-a knowingness, a quiet challenge.

Daniel had mentioned Emily before, briefly. An ex, nothing more.

But this wasn't the reaction of a man running into an old flame by chance. This was something else entirely.

A shift. A disruption. The air in the pavilion seemed to change, as if the very fabric of the evening had been altered by her presence.

Victoria swallowed, pushing the unease down.

Emily reached for her glass once more, raising it slightly. "To unexpected reunions."

The moment stretched.

Then Daniel, almost mechanically, lifted his own glass.

Victoria hesitated, then did the same.

The clink of glass rang out-a sound too sharp, too final.

As Emily turned, sashaying toward a table at the far end of the pavilion, Victoria exhaled slowly.

Her mind told her it was nothing. A coincidence. Just an ex-girlfriend, someone from the past.

But somewhere, deep in the pit of her stomach, something twisted.

Something that told her this was only the beginning.

---

Chapter 2: The Tension Grows

The morning light streamed through the sheer curtains of their suite, casting long golden lines across the floor. The faint scent of salt and citrus lingered in the air, a reminder of the sea just beyond the balcony. Victoria stirred, stretching beneath the crisp sheets, savoring the luxurious stillness of the moment. She turned toward Daniel, expecting to find him still sleeping, but the bed beside her was empty.

She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The sliding balcony doors were slightly ajar, allowing the warm ocean breeze to drift inside. She stepped out onto the terrace, wrapping a light shawl around her shoulders. Below, the infinity pool gleamed in the morning sun, the water so still it might have been glass.

Daniel stood at the railing, staring out at the horizon, his hands braced against the wood. The tension in his shoulders was unmistakable.

"You're up early," she said softly.

He turned slightly, as if startled, then forced a smile. "Yeah. Couldn't sleep much."

She moved closer, slipping her arms around his waist. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

He nodded, but his eyes didn't quite meet hers.

They spent the morning exploring the resort, strolling through the manicured gardens that overlooked the cove. Victoria tried to shake off the strange tension that had settled over them. This was their honeymoon-it was supposed to be perfect. She reached for Daniel's hand, lacing her fingers through his, hoping to pull him back into the moment.

But something was off.

Each time they passed through the open-air lobby, her gaze flickered toward the lounge area, half-expecting to see Emily stretched across one of the plush chairs, her sharp, knowing smile aimed in their direction. It was ridiculous, really. The woman was just an ex. The past.

Still, she couldn't forget the way Daniel had stiffened at the sight of her the night before. How Emily's eyes had danced with amusement, as if she were privy to a secret no one else knew.

By midday, Victoria suggested they relax by the pool. She ordered a drink, stretching out on a lounge chair under the shade of an umbrella while Daniel swam a few laps. The sun was high, the air thick with humidity, and she let herself sink into the warmth of it, allowing the unease of last night to fade.

Then she saw her.

Emily was seated at a table near the bar, dressed in a white sundress, oversized sunglasses perched on her nose. She was alone, absently stirring a drink with a straw.

Daniel, having just emerged from the pool, grabbed a towel and dried off, unaware of Victoria watching him.

Until his gaze flickered toward Emily.

It was quick, barely noticeable, but Victoria caught it. A hesitation. A glance held for just a fraction of a second too long.

Emily took a slow sip from her drink, her lips curving upward.

Victoria's stomach twisted.

She glanced at Emily's glass, watching as she swirled the liquid idly. The ice had mostly melted. Had she been sitting there that long? The faintest clink of her straw against the glass punctuated the lazy afternoon air, and when she set it down, it landed just a little too hard against the table.

A flicker of amusement crossed Emily's face.

Victoria turned back to Daniel. Did he notice?

Later, in their suite, she decided to ask casually. She kept her tone light, as if it were a passing thought.

"So... you never really told me much about Emily."

Daniel, standing by the mirror, paused mid-button of his shirt. "What's there to tell?"

Victoria leaned against the dresser, watching him. "I don't know. You two seemed... familiar last night."

His fingers stilled for the briefest moment. Then he gave a short laugh. "It was years ago. She meant nothing."

But that wasn't true, was it? If she had meant nothing, then why had he tensed at the mention of her name? Why had he looked at her like that by the pool?

She wanted to push further, but she also didn't want to seem insecure. So she nodded, pretending to accept his answer.

Still, doubt lingered.

That afternoon, Victoria booked a massage at the spa. She welcomed the chance to be alone, to let her thoughts settle. The treatment rooms were nestled in a secluded part of the resort, surrounded by tropical greenery. The scent of essential oils filled the air, the dim lighting soothing.

She had nearly managed to relax when a voice, low and amused, broke through her tranquility.

"Well, isn't this a coincidence?"

Victoria's eyes snapped open.

Emily.

She stood near the entrance of the spa, wrapped in a silk robe, her auburn hair swept up in an effortless twist. She looked radiant, smug even, as if she had been waiting for this moment.

Victoria forced a smile. "Emily."

Emily sauntered closer, a lazy confidence in her every movement. "I was hoping we'd run into each other again. It's funny, isn't it? The way fate works."

Victoria didn't answer.

Emily sighed, lowering herself into the chair across from her. "You're probably wondering about Daniel and me."

Victoria's hands clenched in her lap. "No, actually. He told me everything I need to know."

Emily's lips curved upward, her eyes gleaming with something close to amusement. "Did he?" She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Daniel and I always had unfinished business."

The words sent a chill through Victoria.

Emily lingered for a moment longer, as if savoring Victoria's reaction, before standing. She gave a small, knowing smile.

"Enjoy your honeymoon."

Then she was gone, leaving behind the scent of expensive perfume and a growing sense of unease.

That evening, Victoria tried to shake it off. She convinced herself that Emily was just playing games, trying to get under her skin.

But that confidence was short-lived.

Later, after dinner, she spotted Emily at the beach bar, laughing with another couple, her posture relaxed, her head tilted back in amusement.

Victoria wasn't the only one who noticed.

Daniel had been watching, his drink untouched, his body still.

The moment Emily's gaze flickered toward him, he looked away, pretending to focus on the conversation at their own table.

But Victoria saw it.

That night, she tossed and turned in bed, her mind restless, her dreams unsettled.

At some point, the nightmare took hold.

She was underwater, arms thrashing, lungs burning. The weight of the ocean pressed in, pulling her deeper, deeper-until she looked up and saw him.

Daniel.

Standing by the edge of the pool.

Watching.

Not moving. Not helping. Just watching.

She woke up gasping, her chest heaving.

The room was silent, save for the hum of the ceiling fan. Daniel slept soundly beside her, his breath slow and steady.

She sat up, wiping the sweat from her brow. The air felt thick, heavy.

Something drew her toward the window. She slipped out of bed, stepping onto the balcony.

Below, the infinity pool shimmered under the moonlight, its stillness unnatural, almost eerie.

She exhaled slowly, telling herself it was just a dream.

Just a dream.

Then she heard it.

Distant, but unmistakable.

Two voices. Arguing.

Victoria's pulse quickened.

She leaned over the balcony, squinting against the darkness.

The voices were coming from near the pool.

She couldn't make out the words.

But she recognized one of them.

Daniel.

---

Chapter 3: A Death in the Water

The morning air was thick with humidity, the early light filtering through the sheer curtains in shifting gold and blue. A gentle breeze carried the scent of the sea into the room, yet something about the atmosphere felt off. It was too quiet. The usual sounds of the resort-the murmur of early risers at breakfast, the distant crash of waves-seemed muted, as if the world itself had paused in uneasy anticipation.

Victoria stirred, the weight of restless sleep clinging to her limbs. The nightmare still lingered at the edges of her consciousness-the water closing in, the sensation of drowning, the sheer helplessness of it. She sat up abruptly, her breath unsteady, as though she had surfaced from something deeper than sleep.

Daniel was already up.

The sound of soft movements reached her ears-the faint rustle of fabric, the muted click of a watch clasp being fastened. She turned, blinking against the dim light. He stood at the dresser, fixing his cufflinks with slow, deliberate precision, his face unreadable in the mirror's reflection.

"Morning," she murmured, stretching.

"Morning." He barely looked at her.

Something was wrong.

She had felt it last night-the tension in him, the restless energy. The way he had left the suite when he thought she was asleep. The voices she had heard near the pool, distant but sharp with urgency. Had it been real, or just an echo of her nightmare?

A scream shattered the morning stillness.

Sharp. Piercing. Raw with terror.

Victoria turned to Daniel. He was motionless, fingers frozen mid-movement, his face utterly blank.

Then, without a word, he strode toward the door.

She followed, heart hammering. Other guests were emerging from their rooms, drawn by the sound. A small crowd was already forming at the balcony overlooking the infinity pool.

Victoria pushed forward, shoving past a man in a robe, her pulse pounding. She reached the railing and looked down.

The water was unnaturally still, the surface marred only by the dark shape floating face-down at the center.

For a moment, her brain refused to process what she was seeing.

Then realization crashed over her like a wave.

Emily.

A hotel staff member was already wading into the pool, his movements hesitant, almost reluctant. Others stood frozen along the deck, hands covering their mouths, eyes wide with horror.

Victoria's stomach lurched.

Beside her, Daniel remained utterly still.

The silence stretched unbearably before the hotel manager, Mr. Calloway, burst onto the scene. His normally composed demeanor was gone, replaced by an urgency that made the other guests step back.

"Everyone stay back," he ordered, his voice tight. "It's an accident. The authorities have been called."

Accident.

The word felt wrong. Forced. A hurried explanation wrapped up in a single breath.

Victoria turned to Daniel, expecting-what? Shock? Denial? Disbelief?

But he said nothing.

He wasn't looking at Emily's body.

He was looking at the water.

Victoria's throat tightened. "Daniel-"

The wail of sirens cut through the air, stopping her mid-sentence.

Within minutes, the local police arrived-a stark contrast to the polished luxury of the resort. Their uniforms were damp with sweat, their boots leaving wet prints on the pristine tiles.

The lead officer, a tall man with a measured gait, stepped forward. His suit was slightly rumpled, his dark hair streaked with silver at the temples. Unlike the frantic guests, his face remained impassive, assessing.

Inspector Delgado.

His gaze swept the scene, taking in every detail before settling on Mr. Calloway. "The body?"

The manager cleared his throat. "One of our guests. Emily Carter. She must have-must have slipped. She had been drinking last night."

Delgado didn't speak for a long moment. Then, with practiced ease, he crouched at the edge of the pool, studying the body as it was carefully lifted onto a waiting stretcher.

Victoria's breath hitched.

Emily's skin was pale, her auburn hair darkened by water, strands clinging to her face. But it wasn't just drowning. There-just above her temple-a deep bruise.

Victoria's stomach twisted.

A slip and fall wouldn't have done that.

Delgado finally stood, dusting off his trousers. His eyes flicked toward Calloway. "What time was she last seen alive?"

The manager hesitated. "It's hard to say. The bar closes at midnight, but guests come and go. We don't keep track."

Delgado turned to the growing cluster of onlookers. "Who here spoke to Miss Carter last night?"

A hush fell over the crowd.

Then a voice broke the silence.

"I did."

Victoria turned sharply.

Julia.

Emily's closest friend, the one she had arrived with. Her eyes were red-rimmed, swollen, her hands trembling.

Delgado regarded her carefully. "When did you last see her?"

Julia swallowed. "Just before midnight. She said she wanted to take a walk before heading back to the room."

Victoria felt her skin prickle. She glanced at Daniel.

He was staring at Julia, his expression blank.

Delgado nodded. "Did she seem upset?"

Julia hesitated. "No. But... she did mention something strange."

Delgado's gaze sharpened. "Strange how?"

Julia's voice dropped slightly. "She was talking about someone from her past. Someone she wasn't supposed to see again."

The air shifted.

Delgado tilted his head. "Did she say who?"

Julia hesitated.

Then, finally, her eyes slid to Daniel.

Victoria's heart stopped.

Delgado followed her gaze, his expression unreadable. He turned toward Daniel, slowly, deliberately. "And you are?"

Daniel finally spoke, his voice cool, detached. "Daniel Hale. My wife and I arrived yesterday."

Delgado studied him for a beat longer than necessary.

Julia's voice wavered. "I saw them. Last night. Daniel and Emily. They were arguing by the pool."

The words hit Victoria like a physical blow.

She turned to Daniel, expecting denial, explanation-anything.

But he simply stood there, silent.

Delgado's gaze sharpened. "Mr. Hale, is that true?"

Daniel's jaw tightened. Then, finally, he exhaled. "Yes. We spoke. She wanted to clear the air."

A simple answer. A reasonable one.

And yet... Victoria's stomach twisted.

Because Daniel hadn't told her.

He had gotten back into bed last night as if nothing had happened. As if there had been no argument, no meeting at the pool.

Her mind raced, trying to assemble the pieces.

Emily had died after that argument.

And Daniel had been the last person seen with her.

For the first time since arriving at the resort, a terrible thought bloomed in Victoria's mind.

Could her husband have had something to do with Emily's death?

She turned to look at him again.

Daniel's face was unreadable.

But his hands-his hands were clenched into fists.

---

Chapter 4: A Web of Lies

The afternoon sun was high, but the resort had grown cold in a way that had nothing to do with the breeze off the water. The infinity pool, once an inviting stretch of blue, now lay empty, cordoned off by yellow tape that fluttered slightly in the wind. Guests moved in hushed voices, glancing over their shoulders as if speaking too loudly would summon the ghost of the morning's events.

Victoria sat on the edge of the bed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her fingers ice-cold despite the oppressive heat.

Daniel stood near the window, his back to her, gazing out toward the beach as if the rhythmic crashing of the waves could drown out what had happened. His posture was rigid, his shoulders squared, but the way his fingers drummed idly against the glass betrayed the tension coiling beneath the surface.

She took a breath, steadying herself. "You argued with her."

Daniel didn't turn.

Victoria swallowed. "You were the last person to see Emily alive."

He exhaled slowly, shaking his head. "That's not true. I left before-" He stopped, his reflection in the window revealing the flicker of hesitation.

"Before what?" she pressed.

"She wanted to talk about the past," he said, his voice clipped. "That's all."

"That's all?" Victoria repeated, her tone sharper than she intended. "And yet, you didn't tell me. I had to hear it from Julia."

Daniel finally turned, his expression carefully neutral. "I didn't think it mattered."

Her stomach twisted. "A woman you used to be involved with turns up dead hours after arguing with you, and you didn't think it mattered?"

His jaw clenched. "Emily liked to cause scenes, Victoria. She wanted attention. She always did. She was upset that I moved on, that I married you. She-" He exhaled sharply. "She was drinking. She wasn't thinking straight."

Victoria's skin prickled. "She had a bruise on her head."

Daniel flinched, just slightly. "People fall. It happens."

She stared at him, willing him to meet her eyes, to give her something real. But he just stood there, arms folded, his face unreadable.

Her mind churned, replaying the events of the last twenty-four hours. Emily's cryptic words. The way Daniel had been avoiding her, yet watching from a distance. The voices she had heard last night, drifting up from the pool.

She rose to her feet. "I need some air."

Daniel didn't stop her.

Victoria left the suite, her mind racing.

She needed answers.

She started with the closet.

Daniel's suitcase was neatly packed, as always. The man was meticulous, bordering on obsessive when it came to order. But as she shifted through his things, a chill slid down her spine.

His shoes.

The leather loafers he had worn the night before, tucked neatly at the back of the closet. Not damp-but crusted with faint traces of dried salt.

Victoria frowned, running her fingers over the material. Not wet enough to have been soaked recently-but the residue was there. A sign that they had been in contact with the water.

Her pulse thrummed against her skin. She scanned the rest of the suitcase. His clothes from the previous night-gone.

She straightened slowly, her heartbeat thudding in her ears.

A knock at the door sent her spinning.

She hesitated, her mind still trying to piece together what she had just found.

Then she opened it.

Julia stood in the hallway, her eyes puffy from crying, her arms wrapped around herself. "Can I come in?"

Victoria nodded, stepping aside.

Julia paced the room for a moment before finally turning. "I shouldn't be here. But... there's something you need to know."

Victoria felt the weight of her words before they landed. "What is it?"

Julia swallowed hard. "Emily got a letter last night. Someone slipped it under her door."

A chill slid down Victoria's spine. "What kind of letter?"

Julia hesitated, then pulled something from her purse. A crumpled piece of resort stationery, the edges slightly damp.

Victoria unfolded it carefully.

"Leave before you regret it."

Her breath hitched. The ink had bled slightly, as if it had been handled with damp fingers. The thought sent an uneasy tremor through her.

"She didn't tell the police?" Victoria's voice was hoarse.

Julia shook her head. "She said she could handle it. That she wasn't afraid." Her voice cracked. "But this morning... I realized I should've done something. I should've made her leave."

Victoria stared at the note, her mind spinning.

Who had sent this?

Daniel?

Or someone else?

She forced herself to breathe. "Did Emily tell you who she thought wrote it?"

Julia hesitated. "She... she had suspicions."

"Daniel?"

A pause. Then, slowly, Julia shook her head. "She thought it was someone from the staff."

Victoria's pulse quickened. "Who?"

Julia hesitated. "The hotel manager. Mr. Calloway."

Victoria frowned. "Why would Calloway want her gone?"

Julia bit her lip. "Emily told me she knew something. Something about this place. About him." She looked away. "But she never got the chance to tell me what it was."

Victoria gripped the note, her mind racing.

Mr. Calloway.

The man had been too quick to dismiss Emily's death as an accident. Too eager to close the matter before questions could be asked.

She had seen it earlier-the way his fingers had tapped against his wrist, his eyes darting around the scene.

He was nervous.

He was hiding something.

As night fell, the resort grew even quieter. The lights along the pathways flickered weakly, casting long shadows across the sand.

Victoria couldn't sleep.

Daniel lay beside her, his breathing steady, his body still. Too still. As if he was forcing himself to appear at ease.

She turned toward the window, staring out at the darkened resort.

Then she heard it.

Footsteps.

Not the soft shuffle of a guest returning late from the bar.

Not the distant murmur of staff moving through the halls.

This was deliberate. Slow. Pausing every few steps.

Victoria's breath hitched.

Someone was outside their room.

She stayed still, listening.

The footsteps stopped just beyond the door.

She could hear the faintest shift of movement, the sound of someone lingering. Watching.

Her skin prickled.

Then-a shadow moved against the gap beneath the door.

Victoria's pulse roared in her ears.

She waited, counting the seconds.

One.

Two.

Three.

Then, slowly, the shadow shifted.

And the footsteps retreated.

She lay there, unmoving, until the silence stretched long and thin.

But even as she closed her eyes, sleep refused to come.

Because she knew-deep in her bones-

Whoever had been standing there...

Wasn't finished yet.

---

Chapter 5: A Second Suspect Emerges

The morning air was taut with unspoken tension. The azure sky stretched endlessly overhead, the waves lapping at the shore in their eternal, indifferent rhythm. Yet beneath the veneer of paradise, the resort pulsed with unease.

By now, everyone knew.

The staff whispered in corners, their gazes flickering toward the crime scene whenever they passed. The guests had split into two factions-those who pretended nothing had happened, continuing their stay with forced smiles and stiff laughter, and those who packed their bags in hushed urgency, unwilling to linger in a place now tainted by death.

Victoria moved through the breakfast terrace like a ghost, her mind elsewhere. She hadn't slept. Not after the footsteps outside their door, not after lying in bed for hours, staring at the ceiling while Daniel slept soundly beside her-or pretended to.

And now, sitting across from him at breakfast, she watched him closely. Too closely.

He barely touched his food, stirring his coffee absently, his jaw tight. Every now and then, his gaze drifted toward the pool, as if drawn there against his will.

A part of her wanted to ask-wanted to demand answers. But another part of her wasn't sure she wanted to hear them.

A commotion at the far end of the terrace pulled her attention.

Inspector Delgado had returned.

He moved with his usual unhurried authority, his presence sending ripples through the resort staff. Two officers followed him, one of them clutching a plastic evidence bag.

Inside it was a phone.

Victoria's breath caught.

Emily's phone.

Delgado lifted the bag slightly, scanning the room as if searching for a reaction. Then, with the same deliberate calm, he retrieved a small notepad from his coat.

"Miss Carter sent a message shortly before her death." He paused just long enough for the words to settle. "Meet me at the pool. I know everything."

A murmur rippled through the terrace.

Victoria's hands clenched into fists beneath the table.

I know everything.

But who had she sent it to?

Delgado let his gaze settle briefly on Daniel before moving on. "We will be reviewing the resort's guest and staff records, as well as security footage from the lobby and bar areas."

A staff member, one of the bartenders, shifted uncomfortably nearby. Delgado turned his attention to him.

"You served Miss Carter that evening, correct?"

The young man-Leo, his name tag read-nodded stiffly. "Yeah. She had a couple of drinks. She seemed... I don't know, distracted."

Delgado's brow lifted. "Did she mention anything unusual?"

Leo hesitated. His eyes darted toward Mr. Calloway, who stood further back, his arms crossed.

Then, lowering his voice slightly, he said, "She was talking about something from the past. Said she'd found out something she wasn't supposed to know."

Victoria's stomach tightened.

Delgado's gaze sharpened. "About whom?"

Another brief hesitation. Then-

"She mentioned Calloway."

A hush fell over the terrace.

Victoria turned sharply toward the hotel manager.

Calloway's face was a careful mask, but his fingers twitched slightly against his sleeve, betraying his unease.

Delgado folded his arms. "Care to comment, Mr. Calloway?"

The manager cleared his throat. "This is absurd. Miss Carter was-was fond of drama. She had a history of..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "I had no reason to harm her."

But something had shifted.

Leo hesitated, then spoke again, quieter this time. "I don't know if it means anything, but... a while back, Emily told me she had a thing with him." He nodded toward Calloway. "Short-lived, nothing serious. But she thought he was hiding something."

Victoria's pulse thudded in her ears.

Emily and Calloway.

So this wasn't just about Daniel anymore.

Delgado gave a slow nod, as if filing away the information. "I see."

But Victoria wasn't watching the inspector.

She was watching Daniel.

His reaction was almost imperceptible. A slight stiffening of his posture, a quick glance toward Calloway before looking away.

Something in her twisted.

He had excused himself after lunch, saying he wanted to "clear his head." But instead of heading toward the main resort grounds, he veered toward the beach, walking with purpose.

Victoria kept her distance, keeping to the shade of the palm trees lining the narrow path.

Then he stopped.

He lifted his phone, pressing it to his ear.

She held her breath.

His voice was low, urgent. "I told you, we can't talk about this over the phone."

Victoria's heartbeat pounded in her ears.

A pause. Then, "No. Not here. Just-just wait."

Another pause. A muffled response on the other end.

Then, clipped, "I said wait."

Victoria pressed herself against the trunk of a palm, her mind racing.

Who was he talking to?

A surge of nausea rolled through her.

Was he covering his tracks?

She forced herself to breathe, to move, to not crumble under the weight of suspicion.

She needed to find out more.

And that meant Calloway.

While Daniel showered, she slipped out of the room and made her way toward the staff quarters.

The air was thick, the pathways dimly lit. The resort's polished facade faded the further she walked, replaced by plain buildings, unmarked doors.

She hesitated outside Calloway's office.

The door was locked.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she tested it again. Then, glancing over her shoulder, she crouched beside the frame. The lock was old, the latch weak.

A hard shove and-

It gave.

She slipped inside, closing the door softly behind her.

The room was tidy, almost too tidy. A large wooden desk stood at the center, a filing cabinet against the far wall.

Victoria's hands hovered over the drawers.

Then she heard it.

A footstep outside.

Her breath caught.

She moved quickly, pressing herself against the wall as the door swung open.

And then-

A dark silhouette filled the frame.

A slow, deliberate clap echoed in the quiet room.

Inspector Delgado.

His gaze flicked over her, unreadable. Then he sighed.

"You know," he said, stepping inside, closing the door behind him, "if you wanted to investigate a suspect, you could have just asked."

Victoria's throat tightened.

She had been caught.

But something in Delgado's eyes told her-

He was just as curious as she was.

---

Chapter 6: The Night of the Murder

The air was thick with humidity, the weight of the coming storm pressing down on the resort like an unseen hand. The waves beyond the cove had grown restless, their rhythm no longer gentle but forceful, as if the ocean itself sensed what was about to unfold.

Victoria had spent the past hour pacing the balcony, the glow of the infinity pool below casting strange, shifting reflections against the night. Somewhere within the resort, guests still laughed over candlelit dinners, blissfully unaware that beneath the polished luxury, a web of lies was tightening.

Delgado had let her go after a long, measured look and a pointed warning.

"You're not the detective here, Mrs. Hale. Be careful where you step."

She had nodded. But she wasn't going to be careful. Not anymore.

Because she had pieced it together.

Emily hadn't been the target.

She had uncovered something-something dangerous. She had known too much, and someone had silenced her before she could reveal it.

Victoria clenched the railing, her mind racing.

It had to be Calloway. The nervous glances, the rushed explanations, the way he had dismissed Emily's death so quickly. He had been afraid. But of what?

She had to find proof.

She left the suite quietly, moving down the dimly lit corridor. The scent of salt and jasmine clung to the air, but beneath it, something else-a faint metallic tang. It sent a shiver down her spine.

The staff quarters were silent, the narrow hallway leading to Calloway's office shrouded in shadow. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the handle.

Then-

A hand clamped over her mouth.

Panic surged through her as she fought against the grip, her heart hammering. A sharp shove sent her stumbling forward, the door to the adjacent storage room flung open. Before she could turn, the door slammed shut behind her, the lock clicking into place.

Darkness swallowed her.

She pounded against the door. "Let me out!"

Silence.

Her pulse thundered. She felt along the walls, searching for anything-a way out, a weakness in the lock. The air was stifling, the scent of cleaning supplies and dust pressing against her throat.

Who had locked her in?

If it was Calloway, it meant she was right. It meant he knew she was getting too close.

Then she heard it-a scuffle outside, voices raised.

A muffled cry.

Julia.

Adrenaline surged through her. She threw her weight against the door, once, twice-on the third try, the old hinges groaned and gave way.

She stumbled into the corridor, breathless, and ran.

The pool deck was eerily empty, the water reflecting the storm-heavy sky. But on the far end-movement.

Daniel.

He stood at the edge of the pool, his hands clenched into fists.

And at his feet-Julia.

She was on her knees, clutching the railing, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her dress was soaked, strands of hair plastered to her face.

Victoria's blood ran cold.

"Daniel?" Her voice came out strangled.

He turned sharply, his face illuminated by the flickering lanterns lining the pool. His expression was unreadable, his eyes shadowed.

Then, from the darkness-another figure emerged.

Calloway.

His face was twisted in frustration, his hand clenched around something-a length of rope? No, a belt.

Julia choked out, "It was him-it was Calloway. He thought Emily was blackmailing him."

Calloway's jaw tightened. "She should have left it alone."

Victoria took a step back.

This wasn't just about Emily anymore.

Calloway advanced, but before he could move closer-a gunshot split the night.

Everyone froze.

Inspector Delgado stepped into the poolside light, his gun raised, his expression calm but firm.

"That's enough."

Calloway's face contorted for a brief second-then, with a resigned exhale, he let the belt drop from his fingers.

Two officers emerged from the shadows, moving quickly to restrain him.

It was over.

Victoria's knees nearly buckled with relief. She turned to Daniel, waiting for his reaction.

He was watching Calloway, his jaw tight.

But something was wrong.

He wasn't relieved.

He wasn't surprised.

He was tense.

The realization hit her like ice water.

Something still didn't add up.

If Calloway had killed Emily by mistake-thinking she was blackmailing him-then why had Daniel been acting so guilty?

Why had he been so tense since the moment they arrived?

Why had his shoes been wet the morning after Emily's death?

Victoria's breath caught.

She turned to face him fully, the truth unfurling inside her, slow and terrible.

Daniel's eyes met hers.

And she knew.--

---

Chapter 7: The Final Truth

The night was still, yet the air felt heavier, thicker, as if the very fabric of the resort had absorbed the weight of what had happened. The flickering lanterns cast long, shifting shadows along the pool deck, their golden glow reflecting in the water's surface-calm now, but not innocent. Never again.

Calloway was gone, handcuffed and escorted away by Delgado's officers. Julia, still trembling from her near drowning, had been led inside, draped in a dry towel, her tear-streaked face barely visible beneath her wet hair. The few remaining guests had long since disappeared, retreating to their rooms, desperate to pretend this night had never happened.

But Victoria couldn't move.

She stood at the edge of the pool, staring down at the shifting ripples, the same water where Emily had drowned. Where she had died.

And Daniel was standing beside her.

He had been silent since Calloway's arrest. No relief, no words, no attempt to comfort her. Just silence.

She turned to him now, and he must have felt it-felt the way she was looking at him, felt the shift in the air-because he finally moved. Slowly. Carefully.

"Victoria," he said, his voice measured. Controlled. "It's over."

But it wasn't.

And she knew now that it never had been.

She took a slow breath, forcing herself to meet his eyes. "Did you love her?"

A flicker of something crossed his face, so fleeting she almost missed it. Regret? Anger? Guilt?

Then it was gone.

"Victoria," he said again, a warning now.

"Tell me the truth, Daniel." Her voice was steadier than she expected. "You owed me that much."

His jaw tightened. "It doesn't matter anymore."

"Emily thought it did."

His expression darkened, something shifting behind his eyes. "Emily-Emily didn't know when to stop." He exhaled sharply, as if he were talking about an old nuisance, not a woman who was dead. "She came here knowing exactly what she was doing. She wanted to ruin everything."

Victoria's pulse pounded, but she held her ground. "Ruin what?"

His silence was answer enough.

She stepped forward, closing the space between them. "How long?"

Daniel looked past her, toward the water. His fingers twitched at his sides.

"Months," he admitted, his voice so low it was almost lost in the breeze. "Right before the wedding."

A bitter laugh caught in Victoria's throat. "Right before?" The nausea curled in her stomach, hot and sour.

"She wanted more," he said, as if that excused it. "I told her it was over. I meant it, Victoria. I did. But she-" He shook his head, his fists clenching. "She wouldn't let it go. She wanted to tell you everything."

Victoria's breath hitched. "So you killed her."

His gaze snapped back to her. "I didn't-" He stopped, his face darkening. "It wasn't like that."

But she already knew.

The wet shoes. The missing clothes. The phone call.

"I heard you that night," she whispered. "You left the room. I heard you arguing near the pool."

Daniel's lips parted slightly. Just enough for her to know he hadn't expected that.

"She was threatening to tell me, wasn't she?" Victoria pressed. "She told you it was over. She told you she wasn't going to be quiet anymore."

His breath came sharp through his nose. "She was drunk. She was-she was trying to make a scene. She grabbed my arm. She wouldn't stop talking, wouldn't stop pushing-"

"So you pushed back."

Silence.

A deep, horrible silence.

And then-his shoulders fell. Just slightly. Just enough.

His hands flexed at his sides.

"I-I didn't push her," he said finally. "Not really. She lost her balance."

Victoria swallowed against the rising bile in her throat. "And you just-left her there?"

His fingers curled into fists again. "I thought she'd pull herself out."

But they both knew the truth.

He had watched her.

Watched her struggle.

And done nothing.

She could see it now. Emily gasping, flailing, fingers reaching for the pool's edge-Daniel standing just out of reach, watching as the woman who had once shared his bed slipped beneath the surface.

Her stomach turned.

"Why didn't you try to save her?" The words were hoarse, raw.

His jaw locked. "I didn't mean for her to die."

That wasn't an answer.

That was a deflection.

He had let her drown.

Victoria felt her world collapse in on itself.

The man she had married. The man she had loved.

She had never really known him at all.

Somewhere behind them, footsteps approached. The familiar weight of Delgado's presence filled the space.

"You knew, didn't you?" she whispered, still looking at Daniel. "You knew this was coming."

Daniel's mouth opened, but before he could speak-

"Mr. Hale."

Delgado's voice cut through the humid night like the snap of a closing trap.

Victoria stepped back, her hands trembling.

Daniel straightened, his face smoothing over into something blank, practiced.

Delgado studied him, then turned to Victoria, his expression unreadable. "He confessed?"

She nodded.

And then, finally-Daniel moved. Not toward her. Not toward the water.

But toward Delgado.

Because he knew.

It was over.

The handcuffs clicked around Daniel's wrists, sharp and final.

Victoria watched as he was led away, the moment feeling surreal, distant-like she was watching someone else's life fall apart.

The pool still shimmered beneath the lantern light, its surface smooth and unbroken.

As if it had never happened.

As if Emily had never been there at all.

A warm breeze rustled through the palm trees.

Short, uneven breaths. How long had she lived beside a stranger? How long had she convinced herself she knew him?

The night pressed in, the silence deep and absolute.

She had loved him once.

But she had never really known the man she married.