That night, the top trending Instagram headline read: [New York elite Scott family’s live-in son-in-law, Wade Morgan, and his lover, Allison Kelly, were pushed off a yacht by Rianne’s alleged lover. Their whereabouts remain unknown.]
The moment Allison and I hit the water, a team of divers was already waiting to take us deeper into the sea.
At a prearranged location, we had diving equipment stashed away.
Both of us had learned how to dive—after all, we had more than enough free time over the years.
With ease, we evaded the search efforts.
After about half an hour, we surfaced at an abandoned dock.
The dock once belonged to the Scott family, but it had been deserted for a long time.
Back when we were learning to dive, Allison and I often came here, even cleaning out a small room to use as a rest stop.
It wasn’t much—just a single bed, with a toilet and shower behind a flimsy curtain.
As soon as we arrived, we locked the door and exchanged knowing smiles.
For both of us, the Scott family had always felt like a prison.
I had willingly walked into that prison for love.
Allison, on the other hand, had been forced into it because her parents were gravely ill, and she needed a large sum of money to save them.
For years, as the "live-in son-in-law" and the "delicate little wife," we had played by the rules.
But that didn’t mean we weren’t human.
"Hurry up and change before you catch a cold!" I reminded her.
Then, without hesitation, I stripped off my soaked clothes.
Allison immediately turned her back to me. "This place is way too small!" she protested.
"We’re on the run, sis! Did you expect a five-star suite?" I scoffed.
She hesitated for a moment before finally peeling off her drenched clothes.
Back at Scott's household, I had always been respectful, never stealing glances. Plus, Allison was usually dressed conservatively.
But now, up close, I realized—her skin was as smooth and fair as a newborn’s, and her figure... was just as stunning as Rianne’s.
Damn. Had Lincoln been living this well?
"Stop staring!"
Allison shot me a glare before grabbing her backpack and hurrying behind the curtain. "I-I’m taking a shower first! And you—you better not peek!"
"Relax. I’m a gentleman," I said, rolling my eyes.
I took a T-shirt from my backpack, dried myself off, and sprawled onto the bed.
The dim light cast a silhouette of Allison’s elegant figure onto the curtain.