Chapter 387
Chapter 387:
“Drop the net there,” the man grunted, pointing a gloved finger.
“Here?” Liam asked doubtfully. “It looks empty p>
“Drop it,” Skye commanded. She trusted the fisherman.
Liam struggled with the heavy net, tossing it over the side. It sank.
They waited. The sun beat down on them.
Under the water, unseen by the cameras or Liam, a large submerged cage had been positioned hours ago by Alistair’s team. The net settled directly over the release mechanism.
Ten minutes later.
“Pull!” the fisherman yelled.
Liam grabbed the rope. “It’s stuck,” he groaned. “It’s huge p>
“Pull harder,” Skye said, crossing her arms.
Liam strained, his bad leg trembling as he tried to find leverage on the slick floor of the dinghy. He gritted his teeth, sweat pouring down his face, the veins in his neck bulging as he fought against the weight. He hauled the net up, hand over hand, gasping with every pull.
As it breached the surface, water cascaded off a writhing mass of marine life.
He dumped it onto the floor of the dinghy.
Skye stared.
It was full of massive spiny lobsters, pristine red snappers, and a collection of shellfish that looked like they belonged in a Michelin-star kitchen.
“This is…” Skye picked up a lobster. It waved a claw at her. “This is an incredible haul. Almost too perfect p>
“Beginner’s luck!” Liam cheered, oblivious to the logistics required to gather such a specific, high-value catch in one spot. “Look at this! We’re feasting tonight p>
Skye looked up at the trawler. Alistair tipped his hat again, revved his engine, and motored away quickly, leaving a wake of white foam.
Back on shore, the director stared at the catch.
“Where did you get restaurant-grade seafood in the Pacific shallows?” Gordon asked, his eye twitching. “That snapper sells for fifty dollars a pound p>
“Beginner’s luck,” Liam shrugged, posing for a photo with the crab.
Julian Vance arrived on set moments later. He had taken a speedboat from the mainland. He pulled Director Gordon aside into the shade of a palm tree.
𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘦.𝘤𝘰𝘮
Julian opened his laptop. He showed a satellite feed. It showed the trawler, the pre-positioned cage, and the transfer of goods.
“You have a cheater,” Julian said dryly.
“I knew it!” Gordon exploded. “I’m disqualifying them p>
“No.” Julian closed the laptop. “You aren’t p>
“Why not p>
“Because the man on that boat is Alistair Thorne,” Julian whispered. “He’s producing his own narrative. If you expose him, he buys the network and fires you. If you let it slide, you get the highest ratings of the season p>
Gordon turned pale. He remembered the phone call from the day before—the deep, terrifying voice that had threatened to destroy him. He looked at the trawler in the distance with new eyes.
“That’s Thorne?” Gordon swallowed hard. “The… the mob boss p>
“The legitimate businessman,” Julian corrected. “Let them eat the lobster p>
That night, Liam tried to cook the lobster over a campfire. He burned the shell, but the meat inside was sweet.
Skye took a bite. It tasted like butter and luxury. It tasted like the dinner they had shared at Le Ciel.