The line went dead.
Something inside me went with it.
The two men sneered.
"See that? Your precious Anthony only cares about our Bianca."
"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.