A Little Girl Pushed My Pregnant Wife Into the Resort Pool—Seconds Later, We Realized She Had Actually Saved Her Life ⭐

The bullet screamed past my ear, embedding itself in the hardwood floor.

Sterling was stronger than he looked. He slammed the butt of his pistol down onto my shoulder, a sharp bolt of pain shooting down my arm. I cried out, losing my grip, but I managed to slam him back against the glass railing of the balcony.

"You absolute fool!" Sterling hissed, pressing the barrel of the gun under my chin. "You can't stop what's coming!"

"I don't have to," a voice whispered right behind him.

It was Evie. She had slipped around his blind spot. With a sudden, forceful kick, she struck the back of Sterling's knee. His leg buckled.

Stumbling backward over the low glass railing, Sterling lost his balance. He grabbed wildly at my shirt, dragging me with him toward the three-hundred-foot drop into the churning black ocean.

"David!" Mara screamed.

I caught the edge of the balcony with my left hand, my fingers slipping on the smooth glass. In my right arm, I was still clutching our baby tight against my chest.

Hanging below me, suspended by my collar, was Arthur Sterling. His face was twisted in sheer, unadulterated terror as he looked down at the dark, roaring waves crashing against the jagged cliffside.

"Pull me up, David!" Sterling begged, his voice cracking. "Pull me up, and I'll let you go! I'll give you billions! You can have anything!"

I looked down into his desperate eyes. I thought of the ceiling crashing down at the resort. I thought of the blood on Mara's hands. I thought of my newborn son marked for slaughter.

"You wanted the future, Arthur," I said, my voice dead calm. "Welcome to it."