My sister smashed my six-year-old daughter’s face into my parents’ kitchen table over one bite of chocolate cake—and while Ruby lay unconscious in her yellow dress, my own mother locked both arms around me and whispered, "Don’t touch her. Let Vanessa calm down."

I quickly backed away from the balcony railing, melting into the shadows of the lavish corridor.

Taking on an entire heavily armed platoon in a crowded, open atrium was a guaranteed suicide mission.

I needed to change the battlefield, dictate the terms of the fight, and level the playing field.

I slipped into an unlocked housekeeping closet, securing the door silently behind me.

I traded my ruined designer dress for a dark blue maintenance uniform that hung loosely on my frame.

It wasn't Kevlar, but it would help me blend into the industrial sections of the massive ship.

I pried open a heavy metal ventilation grate near the floor and crawled into the narrow, dusty maintenance shaft.

The tight space smelled strongly of grease, ocean salt, and humming electrical wires.

I navigated the labyrinth of ducts, heading steadily downward toward the roaring engines of the vessel.

My mind raced, trying to piece together the terrifying puzzle Gregory had laid out.

If my former commanding officer had sold me out, no official rescue team was coming to save us.

I was entirely on my own, completely isolated in international waters.

I reached a grate overlooking the massive, multi-level engine room.

The heat radiating from the roaring turbines was intensely oppressive, instantly soaking my new uniform in sweat.

Four armed guards were patrolling the catwalks below, keeping a close eye on the terrified engineering crew.

They were forcing the engineers to bypass the ship's navigation limiters.

I carefully removed the metal grate, setting it aside without making a single sound.

I dropped silently onto a steel storage container, perfectly positioned above the nearest guard.

When he walked directly beneath my hiding spot, I launched myself downward.

I wrapped my legs around his neck, using my body weight to violently twist him to the steel floor.

He was unconscious before he could even process the attack or utter a warning cry.

I quickly dragged his heavy body behind the container, securing his communication radio from his tactical vest.

I pressed the earpiece into my ear, expecting to hear tactical chatter and patrol routes.

Instead, I heard the chilling, smug voice of my husband echoing through the secure channel.

"Ashlynn, my darling, I know you're listening," Gregory crooned, his voice dripping with condescension.

I froze completely, realizing he had somehow tracked my movements despite my stealth.

"Did you really think those cheap silk ties could hold me for long?" he laughed softly.

"I'm currently sitting in the ship's main security hub, watching you on the thermal cameras."

My eyes darted to the dark corners of the ceiling, spotting the subtle red glow of a hidden lens.

“Which daughter is yours?” should have been a harmless question

The first wineglass shattered at 8:07 p.m

The moment the mafia boss’s wife called me “an illiterate servant,”

"You have exactly twenty minutes to surrender yourself at the bridge," Gregory announced cheerfully.

"If you don't, I will personally initiate the scuttling charges and send five thousand people to the bottom of the ocean."

Chapter 4 - The Lower Decks