The moment our honeymoon cruise set sail from Florida, my husband locked the cabin door, cornered me with an aluminum baseball bat. "This is how my dad kept my mom in line," he grinned. I didn't scream. I just cracked my knuckles. He forgot to read the part of my resume where I served as a Marine Corps hand-to-hand combat instructor. In one fluid motion, the bat was mine, and his face was...

My mind violently rejected the impossible reality of the horrifying scream echoing through the radio earpiece.

Chloe was supposed to be completely safe in her college dorm room in Chicago, thousands of miles away.

Gregory had manipulated every single aspect of my life, secretly orchestrating a trap that extended far beyond this ship.

"Say hello to your sister, Ashlynn," Gregory taunted, his voice dripping with twisted, cruel amusement.

"Ash, please!" Chloe sobbed into the microphone, her voice trembling with raw, unadulterated terror.

The transmission cut out abruptly, leaving me standing in the stifling, steam-filled silence of the crippled engine room.

Pure, white-hot rage instantly replaced the cold, calculating discipline I had relied on to survive thus far.

Gregory hadn't just crossed a line; he had completely obliterated it, guaranteeing his own destruction.

I grabbed a heavy tactical shotgun from a weapons cache the fallen mercenaries had dragged into the room.

I pumped the action forcefully, chambering a heavy slug with a satisfying, metallic clack.

I left the engineering bay, abandoning stealth entirely as I began my violent ascent through the luxury decks.

I moved like a relentless force of nature, a ghost haunting the opulent, blood-stained corridors of the massive vessel.

Two heavily armed mercenaries tried to ambush me near the grand dining room's ornate entrance.

I didn't even slow my pace, firing twice in rapid succession and sending them both crashing through the mahogany doors.

The remaining guards scrambled, suddenly realizing they were no longer the apex predators on this ship.

They desperately tried to lock down the stairwells, welding heavy security doors shut to halt my progress.

I used stolen breaching charges to blow the heavy doors completely off their reinforced hinges.

Debris rained down on the beautiful marble floors as I systematically cleared every obstacle in my path.

I reached the upper observation deck, completely soaked in sweat, gunpowder, and the blood of my enemies.

The heavy, reinforced double doors leading directly to the captain's bridge stood ominously at the end of the hall.

I raised my weapon, prepared to breach the final barrier and end this nightmare permanently.

Suddenly, the digital display pad next to the bridge door flickered to life, showing a live video feed.

Gregory was smiling softly, casually holding a heavy silver revolver directly against Chloe’s trembling temple.

“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,”

"Drop every weapon you have, Ashlynn," he ordered quietly through the intercom system.

"Or I will paint this beautiful control console with your beloved sister's brains before you can even touch the door handle."

Chapter 6 - The Ghost Ship