Stephen returned to the control room, his clothes soaked and his expression grim. The captain was in the middle of a tense meeting with several crew members; their faces showed worry. The captain looked up as Stephen came in."Mr. Stephen," the captain said, waving him into the group, "we are trying to get the engine repaired. The yacht is taking on water, and we need to avoid sinking."One of the crew added, "The signal line to call for help has been disconnected. We're effectively cut off."Stephen's eyes locked onto the captain's. "Have you found my daughter?" he asked, his voice strung taut with anxiety.The captain shook his head. "Not yet, but we will. Right now, we need to stabilize the yacht. If we sink, everyone's in danger."Stephen's face darkened. "So, my daughter's safety isn't a priority?"The captain sighed again as his eyes met Stephen's. "That is not what I mean. The lives of everyone on board are at stake. We first have to wrest back control of the yacht. After that,
Marianne continued to pound against the door as the hail of blows she pummeled with her fists coursed through her. "Let me out!" she shouted, her voice cracking from desperation. The creeping water was ankle-deep and slowly beginning to squeeze a fist of panic in her chest.She fumbled with her phone to dial up Stephen's number. It rang forever. "Come on, Stephen, pick up," she muttered, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. When it went to voicemail, she cursed under her breath. "Great. Just great.She threw desperate eyes through the little room for any kind of help. The water kept rising. She knew she had just moments before she'd be completely submerged. Desperate, she scoured every inch for a sign of a way out.Charles sat at a corner table in the yacht's restaurant bolting down prawns drenched in hot sauce. He hadn't seen Stephen in quite a while and wondered what could be keeping him. A flicker of darkness, the lights went out, murmurs of confusion filled the room.Charles l
Back in the city, Enoch trudged into his apartment, beat after a long, tiring day at the Empire. The night sky hung over him like an inky blanket starred with little lights that had no cheering effect on him. He flung his briefcase onto the sofa and beelined for the small bar in the corner of his living room.He poured himself a generous whiskey glass and breathed deep as the amber liquid swirled around inside. "Heaven today was hell," he muttered to himself. Financial loss reports and machinery breakdowns had dominated his day. If only he could predict the market better, he thought, then maybe things wouldn't be quite so bleak.Enoch collapsed onto the sofa, wincing when the leather groaned under him. He took a long drag off his drink, wincing a little as it burned on the way down. He picked up his remote and turned on the TV, hoping for some sort of distraction from the headaches of the day.The anchorman's voice bounced sharply around the room. "Breaking news: A luxury yacht has be
Stephen's eyes flickered to a brilliant white light, with just the steady beep punctuating the silence. He lay still, feeling the dull ache of pain mixed with the warmth of a soft hospital bed. His head turned upward slowly as his mind worked furiously to piece together fragmented memories of a sinking yacht and the water's cold embrace.It was a small, sterilized room with white walls and only one window. He distinguished two security guards at their posts through the frosted glass door, shadowy silhouettes to ensure that no man went in or out of the room. Stephen's heart began to race. The last moments still fresh in his mind: Yuna clinging onto him, the frenzy of the water, and then that "Mission Successful" message that had flashed before his eyes as he sank into unconsciousness."What… what happened?" he muttered, reaching to sit up; his muscles were stiff and weak. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, the cold floor against his feet. Panic surged in through him when his g
Marianne's car drew in front of the luxury hotel, and Stephen just stared blankly out at the front doors. It was as if it were a place he had never seen before—foreign to him. Marianne turned toward him with a glance and a weak smile. "Come on, let's go inside," she whispered, pushing him toward the doors.No sooner had they entered the spacious and luxurious lobby than a group of hotel employees, including the manager, were lining up with their gifts in hand. As they neared, he beamed at them. "Welcome back, Mr. King," he said warmly.Stephen turned his eyes to the manager. Furrows deepened on his brow as he tried to think who this man was. A look of confusion swam over his eyes, and the manager's smiling face fell. "I—I'm sorry if I did something wrong," he stammered.Marianne stepped in, smooth as silk. "Stephen isn't feeling well," she said. "We appreciate your concern, but he really does need to rest."She sidestepped the staff and took Stephen's arm lightly, leading him across t
She drove back to the penthouse; a sense of relief washed over her as she finally felt in control of events, securing her family's safety and peace. As she parked the car, the city's lights glittered like scattered diamonds, contrasting strongly with the dark thoughts whirling in her mind.She took the elevator to the last floor: the penthouse. Softly chiming, the doors slid open, and she stepped out into the corridor, squaring her shoulders and smoothing her expression. She pushed open the door on Stephen and Ariane, who were sitting on the couch and could not have looked more content. Stephen was reading from some storybook, and Ariane had her head on his shoulder with her eyes shining in a gleam of happiness.A pang of guilt stabbed through Marianne, but she quashed it. This was necessary.Her mother, standing a ways to the side, turned to watch her enter. Her eyes swept the room, seeking. "Where's Yuna?" she asked. Her voice edged with unease."I've gotten rid of her," Marianne re
Stephen lay in bed, his mind swirled with confusion and unease. On getting to sleep, he found himself in a dream. He had visions of being on a yacht, the deck slick with water. He was on a yacht with a little girl, and the girl was very important to him. He couldn't see her face clearly. A storm raged around him, waves lashing, and he clung desperately to the little child. The yacht tilted violently, and waves crashed over them."Wait!" Stephen yelled, but his voice was lost against the roaring waves. The girl slipped out of his hold, and he was after her, using his own body to shield this thin, weak girl from all the attacking waves. He crashed to the yacht's wall and into the club-like head—the vision blurred now—and he was bestowed with a message: "Mission Successful.".Stephen sprang up with a start, pouring in sweat. He sat up, taking a big breath, trying to shake off the vivid dream still playing in his mind. He looked at the time: 7:05 AM. His house was still; the rest were asl
When the rollercoaster finally reached its highest point, Ariane's joyous scream cut through the loudest colors of the theme park. Her giggles were now turned with the wind, as the ride descended; small hands clasped onto cotton candy like one would a precious treasure. It spun, a whirl of pink against her smiling face. Stephen stood a few feet away, looking at her with a small smile, all the uneasiness he was feeling earlier long gone with his daughter's pure delight.She had just bought soft drinks, and as Marianne was on her way back, she saw Yuna standing at the edge of the park. Her heart skipped. "What on earth is she doing here?" Marianne muttered under her breath, mouth now agape with a mixture of surprise and concern. She had thought Yuna had left, and the last thing she wanted was for Yuna to run into Stephen, or worse still, for Stephen to run into Yuna.Marianne hurried back, trying to keep out of sight as much as possible, moving to where Stephen was. She looked back over