Chapter 2 - I PRETENDED TO SWALLOW THE PILLSThe strangest thing about discovering your husband intends to murder you is that life doesn't immediately stop looking normal.
The ocean still sparkled.
Lunch was still served at one.
Someone still folded towels into decorative swans.
Music still played softly from hidden speakers.
And Adrian still looked at me like a loving newlywed.
"Eat something," he said.
We were seated beneath a white canopy on the aft deck. Before me sat grilled fish, fruit, salad, and a crystal glass filled with mineral water.
I stared at the glass.
Had he put something in it?
Suddenly every meal became suspicious.
Every drink became dangerous.
Every person approaching me became a possible accomplice.
"You haven't touched anything," Adrian said.
"My stomach."
He gave me a sympathetic smile.
"Poor thing."
I almost laughed.
Poor thing.
He planned to throw me into the Atlantic.
Instead, I touched his hand.
"I think I'll lie down."
"Good idea."
His eyes followed me as I stood.
I deliberately wobbled.
Adrian immediately grabbed my arm.
"Whoa."
"I'm okay."
"No, you're not."
Perfect.
The weaker he believed I was, the safer I became.
For now.
Inside our suite, I searched for anything useful.
My father's yacht had been renovated several times, but he had always insisted on redundant emergency systems.
"Machines fail," he used to tell me. "And occasionally people do too."
I hadn't understood why he obsessed over backups.
That afternoon, I thanked him for it.
Behind an upholstered wall panel in his old study was a small emergency radio.
I opened the compartment.
Empty.
Someone had removed it.
Adrian?
Mercer?
I searched the desk.
Nothing.
Then I remembered another feature.
My father kept a satellite emergency beacon aboard.
I rushed toward the closet where emergency equipment had once been stored.
The beacon was gone too.
They had planned this carefully.
This wasn't an impulsive murder.
It had probably begun before our wedding.
My hands started trembling.
I forced myself to sit down.
Think.
My father had spent his life navigating disasters by gathering information before acting.
So I began doing exactly that.
First question:
Who could I trust?
The captain was involved.
Adrian was involved.
What about everyone else?
The chief stewardess, Maya Torres, had worked on the Celestine for six years, including while my father was alive.
She had known me since I was twenty-six.
I wanted desperately to trust her.
But trust had almost gotten me killed.
So instead of approaching Maya directly, I watched her.
At four that afternoon, I went to the galley pretending I needed tea.
Maya was preparing fruit.
"Mrs. Vale."
"Please don't call me that."
She smiled.
"Claire, then."
I leaned against the counter and made myself look weak.
"Do you know what medication Adrian has been giving me?"
Her knife stopped.
Only for half a second.
But I noticed.
"No."
"Captain Mercer said the yacht had seasickness pills."
"Those aren't ours."
There it was.
A tiny fracture.
"What?"
"Our medical cabinet carries dimenhydrinate in sealed packaging. Captain Mercer handles inventory."
"Mine are plain white tablets."
Maya's expression hardened.
"Where did you get them?"
"Adrian."
She put down the knife.
"Claire—"
Footsteps sounded outside.
Maya immediately picked the knife back up.
Adrian entered.
"There you are."
I smiled.
"Looking for ginger tea."
Maya turned toward the kettle without saying anything.
Adrian wrapped one arm around me.
"You shouldn't be wandering around."
"I was bored."
His fingers squeezed my waist a little too tightly.
Then he looked at Maya.
"Can you bring dinner to our suite around eight?"
"Of course."
"And those tablets from the medical kit."
Maya glanced at him.
"For nausea?"
"Yes."
Interesting.
Adrian apparently wanted medication from the official medical kit now.
Maybe because he knew I had asked questions.
Or maybe he had heard more than I realized.
I returned to the suite with him.
At 7:45, Adrian poured champagne.
At eight, Maya arrived with dinner and a small sealed medicine packet.
Adrian opened it.
He removed two pills.
"Take them."
My heartbeat quickened.
These were packaged pills.
Possibly legitimate.
But I couldn't risk it.
I placed them on my tongue and drank.
Then I kissed Adrian.
During the kiss, I slid the pills between my gum and cheek.
He smiled against my lips.
"Better?"
"Already."
Twenty minutes later, I excused myself to use the bathroom and spat the pills into tissue.
When I came out, I deliberately began acting sleepy.
Adrian seemed delighted.
By ten, I was lying in bed.
At ten fifteen, my breathing was slow and deep.
At ten twenty, Adrian whispered my name.
No response.
He touched my shoulder.
I stayed limp.
Then he left.
The instant the door shut, I opened my eyes.
I waited sixty seconds.
Then followed.
Barefoot.
Silent.
The yacht was dim now, deck lights reflecting across black water.
Adrian headed downstairs.
Not toward the captain's quarters.
Toward the crew corridor.
I followed at a distance.
He entered the yacht's office.
Someone was already there.
Vanessa.
I nearly cried out.
She was supposed to be in Miami.
Instead she stood ten yards away from me aboard my yacht wearing a crew uniform.
Her dark hair had been tied beneath a cap.
Adrian pulled her into his arms.
"I hate pretending," she whispered.
"Few more hours."
"You said that yesterday."
"Claire wasn't drugged enough yesterday."
Vanessa pushed him away.
"And Mercer?"
"Paid."
"What about the stewardess?"
"Maya doesn't know anything."
Good.
I almost sagged against the wall.
Then Vanessa asked, "And the prenup?"
Adrian smiled.
"The amendment took care of it."
My blood went cold.
"What amendment?"
Vanessa lowered her voice.
I leaned closer.
"The one Claire signed after the rehearsal dinner."
I remembered signing several documents that night.
Wedding insurance.
Trust paperwork.
A temporary medical authorization.
Documents Adrian's lawyer claimed were necessary because we would be traveling internationally.
I had been exhausted.
Distracted.
Happy.
Apparently stupid.
Adrian laughed softly.
"She signed everything."
Vanessa kissed him.
"And when she's dead?"
"Then you and I disappear for a while. Switzerland maybe."
"I prefer Italy."
"You can buy Italy."
I wanted to walk inside and smash the champagne bottle against his head.
Instead, I remained silent.
Then Adrian said something that changed everything.
"Midnight. Mercer cuts the stern cameras at 11:55. We take Claire outside at twelve ten."
Vanessa smiled.
"And if she wakes up?"
Adrian's expression went flat.
"Then I hold her down."
My stomach twisted.
A door clicked behind me.
I spun.
Maya stood there.
She stared directly at me.
For one terrifying second, neither of us moved.
Then she raised one finger to her lips.
Silence.
She had heard them too.
Maya gently took my hand and pulled me backward through the corridor.
Only after we reached the laundry room did she whisper.
"Your father installed something Captain Mercer doesn't know about."
"What?"
"A second satellite transmitter."
Hope surged through me.
"Where?"
She shook her head.
"Not so fast."
My heart sank.
"Why?"
"Because two hours ago I saw Mercer remove the emergency raft release handles."
I stared at her.
"They aren't only planning to kill you."
May you like
Maya's voice became barely audible.
"They're planning to make sure nobody who knows the truth gets off this yacht."
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