Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
We exit into dim gray light. A sprawling, quiet dock yawns before us. Shipping containers stack like looming sentries in every direction. In the distance, a sleek yacht rocks gently against the water, lines already cast loose. I swallow hard.
This is bad.
The further we go out to sea, the harder it will be to track us. To find us. To rescue us.
A man I recognize as Diego stands near the dock’s edge, shaking hands with an older, well-dressed man—tailored suit, gold watch glinting in the dull morning sun. I can’t hear their words, but the smug tilt of Diego’s mouth says enough. This is a transaction. We are commodities.
My stomach turns. Melanie squeezes my arm tighter.
“They’re putting us on that?” she whispers, her voice barely audible.
I nod once, throat too tight to speak. I glance around. There’s no visible cameras, no police, no Asher storming in like I wish he would. The sickening realization sinks deeper… no one knows where we are.
I fight the desperate urge to scream, to run, knowing both would be futile. There’s nowhere to go. The water will be our prison soon enough.
We’re led aboard the yacht, its pristine white deck gleaming, the air heavy with the scent of diesel and salt. The engines purr, already primed to slip away from shore.
Below deck, they guide us to a small cabin. Not locked, not chained, but escape isn’t needed when there’s nowhere to run.
The door clicks shut behind us.
Melanie crumples onto the narrow bunk, drawing her knees to her chest. I sink beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. The fear in her eyes is mirrored in my own.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers, voice breaking. “I should have known. I should never have trusted him.”
“Shh.” I press my forehead to hers, voice trembling. “This isn’t your fault, Mel. They played you. They planned this. We’re going to be okay.”
But the words feel empty, even to me.
I glance around the cabin, taking in the wood paneling, no windows, and bolted furniture. We’re below the waterline now. I can feel the gentle roll of waves beneath us. My heart pounds painfully.
Asher.
I close my eyes, willing myself not to fall apart. Not yet.
Minutes stretch like hours in the stifling cabin. Melanie dozes fitfully against my shoulder, worn down by fear and exhaustion. I stroke her hair absently, mind racing through every possible outcome. None of them are any good.
Then the door clicks open.
I tense, bracing instinctively.
An older man steps inside, flanked by two silent guards. He moves with deliberate grace, silver hair slicked back, sharp dark eyes missing nothing. His tailored navy suit hangs perfectly on his lean frame. It’s the same man who Diego was talking to earlier.
“Good evening, ladies,” he says smoothly, voice rich with an unplaceable accent. “I apologize for the accommodations.”
I swallow hard, finding my voice. “Who are you?”
A cold smile. “Felix Castillo.”
The name sends a tremor through me. Even I know that name—whispers of cartel ties, rumored to operate across borders, impossible to trace. I feel Melanie stiffen beside me. She obviously recognizes the name too. Who doesn’t know who he is?
“And what do you want with us?” I ask, forcing calm into my voice though my hands shake.
Felix studies us with faint amusement. “Want? Oh, I’ve already been paid handsomely for the both of you.”
Melanie’s breath hitches audibly. I grip her tighter. “Paid by who?”
Felix chuckles softly, shaking his head. “That is of no concern to you. A certain sheikh has expressed considerable interest.”
Ice floods my veins. “You’re going to ransom us?”
“Ransom? No.” He smiles again, shark-like. “Your fate has already been purchased. You are merely in transit.”
He sold us off to some sheikh? I want to cry, but I’m too scared to even shed one single tear.
I stare at him, bile rising in my throat. The casual tone with which he speaks of us—as if we are property—makes my skin crawl.
“My family will pay whatever you want to bring us home safely,” I say quickly, desperate to anchor some leverage. “Whatever the buyer offered, they’ll double it.”
Felix’s smile widens, but it holds no warmth. “Tempting. But the buyer values discretion above all else. This is no longer about money, Miss Lane. It is about honor. Appearances. The contracts are already sealed.”
My breath shudders out of me. The small thread of hope I’d clung to snaps cleanly.
Beside me, Melanie shivers violently, silent tears streaking her face.
“You can’t do this,” I whisper, hating the pleading note creeping into my voice. “They’ll find us.”
Felix’s gaze sharpens, his tone turning cool. “They will try. But by the time they discover where you’ve gone, you will be far, far beyond their reach.”
With that, he turns on his polished heel, guards falling into step behind him. The door clicks shut once more, leaving us in suffocating silence.
I clutch Melanie tightly as her sobs break free. I want to cry too. But I can’t afford to. Not yet.