Chapter 210

The crude jokes about "taking a girl's innocence" and "playing hard to get" echoed through the office.

Though the conversation wasn't directed at him, Adrian Blackwood's jaw tightened visibly. His fingers stilled over the documents he'd been reviewing.

A storm brewed behind Adrian's composed facade as he reached for his cigarette case. The platinum lighter - engraved with his family crest - flashed under the office lights. "Celebrating already?" His voice cut through the laughter like ice. "One contract signed and you think the work is done?"

The room fell deathly silent.

One executive swallowed hard. "Mr. Blackwood, we merely thought—"

"Thought wrong." Adrian snapped the lighter shut with a decisive click. "I want preliminary market analysis on my desk by dawn. Ethan will be waiting." He paused, letting the unspoken threat hang in the air. "Fail to deliver, and consider your positions vacant."

The men scrambled like frightened rabbits, briefcases snapping shut in their haste to escape.

Adrian's polished oxfords connected with the coffee table, sending crystal ashtrays crashing to the floor. The sound of shattering glass chased his retreating employees out the door.

Meanwhile, aboard the luxury yacht, Vivian Hartley watched the shoreline shrink to a thin ribbon on the horizon. The men transferring her to the larger vessel moved with practiced efficiency, their laughter carrying over the waves.

The ocean stretched endlessly, its vastness broken only by the occasional cry of gulls.

Maxwell Sterling moved closer, his expensive cologne overwhelming. "You always did smell divine," he murmured, lips brushing Vivian's ear.

She jerked away violently.

Bound as she was, the movement sent her sprawling across the teak deck. The impact knocked the breath from her lungs.

Maxwell crouched beside her, fingers digging into her jaw with bruising force. "Still refusing to accept reality, Vivian?" His breath was hot against her face. "Every soul on this ship answers to me. Where exactly do you think—"

The pain focused her mind strangely. If escape was impossible... then she would meet her fate on her own terms.

The realization brought an odd calm.

"I... understand now," she forced through clenched teeth.

Maxwell recoiled slightly. "Understand what?"

Vivian lifted her chin, meeting his gaze squarely. "All this theater," she said coolly, "just to get me into bed? You always did go to absurd lengths for sex."

The truth hung between them, stark and undeniable.

The yacht cut through the waves, carrying them further from shore.

Further from help.

Further from any hope of rescue.