Lyla woke up in bed, her head throbbing from the hangover, leaving her feeling completely drained. Sunlight streamed through the balcony windows, bringing a hint of warmth to the room, but it did little to improve her mood. She glanced at the clock on the wall—already 3 p.m. The room was quiet, and Emma was nowhere to be seen. On the nightstand, there was a note and a call button. The note said that if Lyla needed anything, she could use the button to reach Emma at any time.Next to the note was an invitation-like card. Lyla instinctively reached for it, but the moment she saw the words "From: Mr. F" on the front, she quickly pulled her hand back. She silently vowed that no matter what the invitation was for, she would not be attending.The gnawing hunger from her hangover caused a burning sensation in her stomach. She knew she had to eat something; getting sick on a yacht would be a hassle. Although Emma had said she could call anytime, Lyla didn’t want to bother her. Besides, she wa
Lyla hurriedly pulled Emma along, making their way back to the room with quick, determined steps. Her pace was fast, as though she couldn’t bear to stay another moment with those women. “Thank you for standing up for me earlier,” she said between breaths, her voice slightly winded. Then, more seriously, she added, “But try not to do this next time. Those women are trouble. I’ll handle it myself. This ship has a lot going on beneath the surface, and it’s important you protect yourself.”“No need to thank me, Ms. Sinclair,” Emma replied, struggling to keep up, her own breathing labored and her face still set in defiance. “I just can’t stand how they act—like they’re royalty, but they’re really just gold diggers trying to bag a rich man.”"Ms. Sinclair, honestly, you should just let them know that you and Mr. F go way back, and that he personally invited you. You're nothing like them."Lyla came to a sudden stop, her expression dimming as she bit her lip, hesitating for a moment before sp
By the time they were ready, it was nearly 7 PM. Emma checked the time and quickly grabbed Lyla, hurrying them out of the room. They walked down the hallway to the elevator, and as it descended, the sounds of the banquet grew louder. When the doors opened, the noise hit them like a wave. The music was deafening—a pulsing rock beat that made the very floor beneath them tremble. Emma, excited like a girl heading to her first school dance, was about to pull Lyla inside when a senior staff member approached. "Emma, where have you been? Get back to the kitchen and help with the drinks!" Emma pouted, clearly disappointed, but then gestured toward the large doors. She whispered to Lyla, "Ms. Sinclair, this is the banquet hall. I have to help serve the drinks and snacks, so I can’t go in with you."Lyla nodded, watching Emma walk away. She stayed back for a moment, calming her nerves, before taking a deep breath and pushing open the grand, gold-trimmed crystal doors.The sight that greeted
"Stop it!" Lyla rushed forward and quickly helped Emma up from the ground. She immediately saw the swollen red imprint of five fingers on Emma's pale cheek. There were even nail scratches, leaving cruel red marks on her delicate skin.“Ms. Sinclair...” Emma's voice trembled with tears, which she could no longer hold back as they began to stream down her face. “I really didn’t lie…”Lyla cut her off, gently supporting Emma and grabbing a glass of iced drink from a nearby tray. Pressing the cool glass to Emma’s injured cheek, she said softly, “Don’t speak. Just hold this and ice your face.”Emma obediently nodded, taking the glass, her eyes filled with hurt and helplessness.As Lyla looked at the painful marks on Emma’s face and the sorrow in her eyes, a fire of anger ignited in her chest. She could tolerate insults directed at herself, but harming her student, her friend, had crossed the line.Standing tall, Lyla turned around slowly, her gaze sharp as a blade, locking onto Sienna.“Wha
Lyla, however, wasn’t in the same lighthearted mood. A wave of indignation surged through her once again, and this time, it reached its peak. Without thinking, she stormed forward and shoved Carlo hard in the chest. “What’s so funny?” she shouted, her voice a mix of anger and hurt. “Do you think we’re monkeys in a zoo, fighting each other for the scraps you toss at us? What’s there to be proud of? You’re nothing more than a heartless bastard who doesn’t even understand basic respect! Do you really think you’re any better than these women?”Her hand swept over to gesture at the lavishly dressed women around them, her pent-up frustration from the past month spilling out all at once. She was so worked up that her neatly styled hair became disheveled, with a few strands falling across her flushed face, oddly enhancing her striking beauty.Carlo’s attention was fixed on her. He raised an eyebrow, mesmerized, and without thinking, reached out to brush her hair aside. But before he could, sh
Lyla's body was rigid, her mind completely blank. She barely registered that Carlo was carrying her through the darkened deck, into an elevator, and all the way to the top floor.At the far end of the top floor was a luxury suite—different from the one he had been in with Sienna. Carlo headed straight for the bedroom and gently laid her down on the bed.The mattress was so soft that Lyla immediately sank into it, like falling into a gentle trap. The sudden feeling of weightlessness snapped her back to reality. Instinctively, she shrank into a corner of the bed, her wide eyes locked onto Carlo, filled with fear and confusion. She struggled to keep her emotions in check, her voice trembling as she asked, "Did you... did you just kill Sienna?"Carlo didn’t respond right away. Instead, he walked over to a nearby table, picked up a stack of newspaper clippings, and tossed them onto the bed.With shaking hands, Lyla picked up the clippings and began to read. Each one was an obituary of a Eu
Carlo held onto the hand Lyla had wrapped around his waist and continued, "My father's legal wife is also from a Mafia family, and she has a son, Blake Ferretti, the rightful heir to the family. To him, my existence is the greatest threat.""And so you and your mother..." Lyla's heart ached for him. She wanted to say, "It must have been difficult," but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she tightened her embrace around Carlo."That night, I didn’t mean to disappear without a word." Carlo's voice softened. "Hudson texted me about my father being shot and hospitalized. Blake, however, got the news before I did and sent hitmen to ambush me. As soon as I got home, my sports car was set on fire by his men."Lyla gasped, covering her mouth in shock. So Carlo hadn’t lied when she asked about that car back in the laundry room.Suddenly, everything clicked into place.Her father, gravely injured. His half-brother, Blake, determined to claim the family fortune and power, sent assassins aft
The cruise sailed along its course for four days until, at last, it docked at a small island under a clear sunset sky.During those days, Lyla and Carlo rarely left their cabin. Lost in the joy of their confessions, they spent each day wrapped up in one another, as if time and space had become meaningless.When they finally, reluctantly, separated and prepared to disembark, Lyla noticed the eerie quiet around them. The usual bustle on the cruise had vanished. Apart from the stern-faced guards standing nearby, there was no one else in sight. The stillness unsettled her, making it feel like the lively days on board had all been a dream.She paused, instinctively stopping in her tracks as she followed Carlo. “Where are all those women?” she asked quietly.Carlo turned, noticing her anxious expression, and, with a playful seriousness, replied, “Fed to the sharks.”“Really?!” She gasped, covering her mouth. For a moment, she seemed to believe him, running to the railing and looking around