When I gave birth to our child, Zayn showed me a cruelty I could never have imagined. He drowned both me and our baby, his actions cold and unforgiving.

"She was the one I loved," he shouted, his voice hoarse with fury. "I could never even touch her, and you, you, dared to take her life! You like taking Michelle to watch sharks, huh? I'll let you see enough of them now!"

His words echoed in the water, but Zayn, being the father and my husband, covered up the truth and avoided any real consequences. This time, all I wanted was to get away from him and Michelle, to escape this nightmare and avoid another tragedy. But Zayn glanced at the wound on my arm, his expression cold, and tossed me a tourniquet.

"Marie, I don't get you," he snapped. "You're jealous of Michelle, and I don't even care about you! Now you're willing to hurt yourself just to get rid of her?"

I couldn't focus on his words. The tiger shark's sharp teeth were inches from my face, my body trembling uncontrollably. The shark, growing impatient, rammed into the cage with all its might. Michelle's sobs filled my ears. I couldn't hold on anymore, and when I slammed against the side of the cage, a fiery pain shot through my back.

Through the headset, Michelle's voice trembled. "Zayn, if we die here, I'll die with you... and I won't regret it..."

Zayn's voice broke, thick with emotion. "I won't let you die. Even if I have to die, I'll make sure you get out first..."

Without hesitation, Zayn grabbed one of my arms and forced me into the cage. The shark hesitated, took a quick bite, then spit me out, clearly dissatisfied. The pain of its teeth tearing into my flesh was blinding. My blood filled the water, and I cried out in agony, barely able to cling to my aqualung.

Zayn held Michelle tight, using himself as a shield for her. "You need to fix this! Stop your bleeding before it gets worse!"

I saw the disgust in his eyes, even behind the diving mask. He didn't understand, I couldn't tie the tourniquet with my hands. Finally, the rescue team arrived, tranquilizer guns in hand, aiming at the shark. Michelle's oxygen tank started to beep urgently, she was using up too much air, struggling to control her breathing.

Zayn swam straight toward me. With a cold look, he detached my oxygen tank and swapped it onto Michelle. "Marie, you deserve this," he muttered, his voice harsh. "You're faster than her. Hold your breath and get to the surface. I'll deal with you later."

He swam up with Michelle, never once glancing back at me. The rescue team, thinking I was the one at fault, swam over to me and quickly hauled me to shore. No one paid attention to how badly I was hurt.

On dry land, I was hit with a wave of red rashes, itching and burning as decompression sickness set in. The bites on my arm and bruises on my abdomen were so painful, I couldn't even scream. My vision blurred, and I felt myself slipping away. By the time the ambulance arrived, my tears had dried up, the last of them lost in the sea.

Zayn's frantic voice echoed as he grabbed the doctor. "Save Michelle first!" he demanded.

The doctor shook him off. "I understand you're upset, but your girlfriend doesn't have life-threatening injuries. She can wait for the next transport. This woman," he said, pointing to me, "needs immediate attention."

Zayn didn't flinch. He grabbed the doctor's stretcher and pointed at me with his other hand. "This woman," he said coldly, "is my family. But she caused the accident. You will treat the victim first. If anything happens because of the delay, I'll take full responsibility."