Chapter 413
Chapter 413:
It was tied securely to the root with a strip of bright red fabric torn from her jacket.
Alistair pulled it free and held it up to the light. It was battered, scratched by the rocks.
He looked closely at the fabric. It wasn’t just torn; it was knotted in a specific way.
A bowline knot. A secure loop.
She hadn’t fallen.
She had prepared.
Alistair let out a sound that was half laugh, half sob. He kissed the ring, pressing the cold metal against his lips.
“She didn’t fall,” he whispered as he stood. The despair that had been crushing him evaporated, replaced by a burning, focused energy. “She jumped. And she left this. She’s telling us she’s alive p>
He turned to Julian.
“She’s on a boat. And she’s waiting p>
On the Poseidon, Skye was busy making herself the worst house guest in history.
Drake, the ship’s manager, entered her suite with a tray of food.
“Dinner, Ms. Sterling,” he said stiffly.
Skye looked at the tray—grilled chicken and vegetables. She didn’t move from the bed where she was doing stretches.
“Is this a joke p>
Drake blinked. “I beg your pardon p>
“I’m a prisoner, Drake, not a peasant,” Skye said, channeling every ounce of entitlement she had learned from observing Beatrice Kensington. “This chicken is dry. And is that tap water? I only drink sparkling p>
She stood, walked over to the tray, and tipped it over.
The plates shattered on the floor. Food splattered onto Drake’s polished shoes.
“Clean it up,” she ordered. “And bring me something edible. Tell Lucian if he wants me to keep up my strength, he needs to feed me properly. I want the chef to make a soufflé p>
Drake’s face turned purple. “You ungrateful little p>
“Careful,” Skye warned, stepping closer. “Lucian seems quite taken with me. Do you really want to explain to him why his ‘guest’ is upset p>
𝘜ոc𝗲ո𝘴𝗼𝗿𝗲d ѕ𝘵𝘰𝗋𝗶e𝗌 𝘰𝗻 𝗯е𝗅ո𝗼𝘷𝘦𝘭𝗌.𝖼о𝗺
Drake swallowed his rage. He knew the boss’s temper.
He turned on his heel and stormed out, slamming the door.
Skye let out a breath.
Step one: Agitate the staff. Isolate Lucian.
An hour later, a maid entered to clean the mess. She was young and timid.
“I’m sorry about the mess,” Skye said gently, changing tactics instantly. “I’m just so stressed. The wifi… it’s not working. I can’t even check my Instagram p>
The maid kept scrubbing, not looking up. “There is no wifi for guests, Miss. Only Mr. Graves has the satellite link on his personal phone p>
Bingo.
“Oh, I see,” Skye sighed. “That must be hard for you. Being out here so long without talking to family p>
The maid paused. “We get used to it p>
Skye watched her. “Well, if I ever get that phone, I’d be happy to let you make a call p>
The maid looked up, hope flashing in her eyes for a second before she masked it. “Thank you, Miss p>
Skye leaned back.
She had the location of the connection.
Lucian’s pocket.