Chapter 2 - I PRETENDED THE DRUGS WERE WORKINGThe first thing I did was make myself vomit.
It was humiliating, desperate, and probably the smartest decision I made that entire night.
I knelt in the small marble bathroom of the guest cabin, shoved two fingers down my throat, and brought up everything I had eaten since lunch.
My hands were trembling.
My eyes streamed.
When there was nothing left, I sat against the cabinet and stared at the two white tablets Julian had given me.
They looked harmless.
That frightened me more than anything.
I wrapped them in toilet paper, placed them inside the zippered compartment of my bikini bag, and forced myself to breathe normally.
Eight hours until midnight.
Maybe less.
I needed help.
The obvious answer was the crew.
Except Captain Adrian Cole was involved.
That changed everything.
Cole had known my father.
He had shaken my hand at Dad’s funeral.
He had once carried me onto this yacht after I sprained my ankle in Saint-Tropez.
If he could betray me, anyone aboard could.
I thought about Marcus and Theo, the deckhands.
Chef Elena Morales.
Three possibilities.
Three risks.
I chose Elena.
Not because I knew she was innocent.
Because she had been hired by me, not Julian or Cole.
Six weeks before the wedding, I had personally interviewed her after our longtime chef retired. She had no history with Julian.
That was all I had.
I waited three minutes, opened the door, and stepped into the corridor.
Julian appeared at the far end.
“Evie?”
My body reacted before my mind did.
I flinched.
Thankfully, I was pale enough for him to interpret it as sickness.
“There you are.” He hurried toward me. “I’ve been looking everywhere.”
He touched my face.
It took every ounce of strength not to recoil.
“You’re freezing.”
“I got sick.”
His eyes moved toward my hands.
“Did you take the tablets?”
I let my eyelids droop.
“Yeah.”
“You took both?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
Something flickered in his expression.
Satisfaction.
Then tenderness returned.
“You poor thing.”
He put an arm around my waist.
The man planning to kill me helped me back to our bedroom.
That was the worst part.
His touch was exactly the same.
Warm hand against my back.
Fingers gently brushing my hair.
A kiss against my forehead.
Had I not overheard him, I would never have known.
He tucked me beneath the sheets.
“I’ll have Elena bring you broth.”
“No.”
My answer came too quickly.
His eyes narrowed.
I coughed.
“My stomach. I just want to sleep.”
“Of course.”
He sat beside me.
For ten terrifying minutes, Julian watched me.
So I performed.
I slowed my breathing.
Let my mouth fall slightly open.
Moved my eyes beneath closed lids.
Eventually the mattress shifted.
Julian stood.
The door clicked shut.
I counted to sixty.
Then sixty again.
I opened my eyes.
The yacht’s internal communication system was built into the nightstand.
I pressed the galley button.
Elena answered.
“Galley.”
I whispered, “I need ginger tea.”
“Of course, Ms. Hart.”
“Bring it yourself.”
A pause.
“Certainly.”
Seven minutes later, Elena entered carrying a tray.
She was forty-two, compact, dark-haired, and impossible to intimidate in a kitchen.
Tonight she looked concerned.
“You look terrible.”
“Lock the door.”
Her eyebrows lifted.
“Excuse me?”
“Please.”
Something in my voice convinced her.
She quietly locked it.
I sat up.
“Do you trust Captain Cole?”
Elena stared at me.
“That is an unusual question.”
“Yes or no.”
“I barely know him.”
Good.
“Do you trust my husband?”
Her silence lasted half a second too long.
“Elena.”
“No.”
I felt a tiny spark of hope.
“Why?”
She lowered her voice.
“Yesterday I saw Mr. Mercer enter the medication pantry.”
My heart stopped.
“Did he have permission?”
“No.”
“What did he take?”
“I don’t know.”
I reached into the bikini bag and showed her the pills.
Elena didn’t touch them.
“Where did you get those?”
“Julian.”
“When?”
“Every day since we left port.”
Her face changed.
“What are they supposed to be?”
“Seasickness medication.”
“Those aren’t the tablets I gave him.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then I told her everything.
The salon.
The captain.
Midnight.
Vanessa.
Three hundred million dollars.
Elena listened without interrupting.
When I finished, she whispered something in Spanish and sank into the chair beside the bed.
“We need to radio the Coast Guard.”
“Cole controls the bridge.”
“There’s an emergency unit.”
“Where?”
“The auxiliary navigation room.”
“Can we reach it?”
“Yes.”
She hesitated.
“But there’s something else you need to know.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“This afternoon Captain Cole changed course.”
“To where?”
“I don’t know. But Theo complained because it added distance to Barbados.”
A remote area.
Of course.
Julian wasn’t merely waiting until midnight.
He was moving me somewhere my body would be harder to find.
“Elena, who else can we trust?”
“Theo, maybe.”
“Maybe isn’t enough.”
She nodded.
I looked through the porthole.
The Caribbean stretched black and endless beneath a violet sky.
“What about lifeboats?”
“Two tenders and an emergency raft.”
“Could we leave?”
“Not without someone noticing.”
I thought about my father.
Whenever I panicked as a teenager, Dad asked the same question.
What does the other person believe?
Julian believed I was drugged.
He believed I knew nothing.
He believed he controlled time.
Which meant my greatest advantage was making sure he continued believing all three.
I looked at Elena.
“I’m not leaving yet.”
She stared at me.
“Ms. Hart—”
“If we run and they catch us, we lose.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“I want evidence.”
“Evidence?”
“Julian can say I misunderstood. Cole can lie. They can destroy the pills. They can claim I was hallucinating.”
“You heard them plan murder.”
“And I need someone else to hear it.”
Elena slowly understood.
“You want them to talk again.”
“Yes.”
“That is incredibly dangerous.”
“So is being worth three hundred million dollars to a man who wants me dead.”
I asked Elena to bring me an empty bottle identical to the one containing my medication.
Twenty minutes later, she returned.
We switched the contents.
The real pills stayed with Elena.
The fake bottle contained ordinary motion-sickness tablets.
Then we created our second safeguard.
Elena gave me a small digital voice recorder she used for kitchen inventory notes.
I tucked it into the lining of my robe.
At seven thirty, Julian came back.
I was lying in bed.
He smiled.
“Feeling better?”
“Worse.”
His expression softened.
“Poor baby.”
He picked up the pill bottle.
My heart began hammering.
“Maybe you should take another.”
I forced myself to look frightened and weak.
“Is that safe?”
“Of course.”
He shook one tablet into his hand.
The fake one.
I swallowed it.
Julian watched my throat.
Then he kissed me.
“I love you.”
For the first time in our marriage, I lied easily.
“I love you too.”
At eight fifteen, he ordered champagne.
At nine, he changed into black trousers and a white shirt.
At ten, Captain Cole knocked on our door.
He and Julian spoke quietly outside.
I couldn’t hear every word.
But the recorder caught one sentence.
Cole said, “The eastern current is strongest after midnight.”
Julian answered:
“Perfect.”
At ten forty-five, Elena slipped a handwritten note beneath the bathroom door while Julian showered.
Emergency radio tested. Works. Theo is trustworthy. Midnight position transmitted manually if needed.
I destroyed the note.
At eleven twenty, Julian helped me out of bed.
“Come upstairs.”
I let my knees buckle.
He caught me.
“Easy.”
“Where?”
“I have a surprise.”
That almost made me laugh.
Instead, I rested my head against his shoulder.
Julian walked me through the corridor and toward the upper deck.
As we climbed the staircase, I saw Captain Cole waiting near the rail.
Beyond him was nothing but black water.
No islands.
No boats.
No lights.
Julian kissed my temple.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
I looked at the ocean he intended to make my grave.
“It’s unforgettable.”
His smile widened.
Then I noticed something that made my blood run cold.
Cole wasn’t alone.
Theo stood near the tender deck.
And beside him was Elena.
Her hands were tied behind her back.
Captain Cole had a gun pressed against her ribs.
May you like
Our plan had already failed.
And midnight was seventeen minutes away.
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