Chapter 4

Savannah's perfectly arched eyebrow ascended gracefully, a silent testament to her surprise and disbelief, as the man who carelessly collided with her proceeded to unleash a verbal assault upon her.

It was he, the very embodiment of culpability, who bore the weight of fault upon his weary shoulders. And it was he who allowed the flames of anger to consume him in a tempestuous rage.

"The familiarity of your method has become second nature to me. I have no doubt that our paths will cross, and when they do," the man scoffed, his voice laced with a hint of arrogance, "our conversation will inevitably veer towards more intimate matters, perhaps even finding its way to the bedroom."

A rush of warmth flooded Savannah's head, causing her ears to blush a deep shade of crimson. She made a valiant effort to release her grip on the situation, willing herself to find solace amidst the revelry that surrounded her.

Alas, her attempts at tranquility were in vain, for it appeared that the gentleman in question had no intention of ceasing his disruptive behavior.

"Tsk," he uttered disapprovingly, his head shaking in dismay. Savannah, unable to restrain herself, continued her actions unabated.

With a determined stride, she closed the distance between herself and the enigmatic man. A veil of secrecy enveloped them, shielding their connection from prying eyes.

She embraced the freedom to openly express her attitude without worrying about the reactions of others, regardless of the potential audience.

Savannah, with an air of nonchalance, paid no heed to the opinions of others regarding her perceived rudeness and lack of education.

With a swift and calculated movement, she drove her knee into the man's most vulnerable region, causing him to crumple in agonizing pain.

"Jerk! It was an accident! Do refrain from besmirching my character in the presence of others," she implored, her voice laced with a hint of danger. You are the one who bumped into me. Just FYI, even if you are the last man here inside the cruise ship, I shall never endeavor to engage in any form of romantic pursuit with you!" With fierce determination, Savannah's fist collided with his face, the impact resonating through the air.

The force behind her punch was palpable, a testament to her unwavering agonizing torment. It gripped the man's throat, constricting his breath and rendering him speechless.

She stood there, her eyes ablaze with fury, as she confronted him. "I am not a slut," she declared, her voice filled with a mixture of anger and hurt. The word hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his insult. How could her words cut through the air like a sharp blade, piercing the fragile shield of his self-esteem?

The sting of her remark lingered, echoing in the depths of his mind. "Why would I do something that would make me downgrade for just someone like you?" With a fiery glare, Savannah's voice dripped with anger as she delivered her words. And then, with a swift and forceful motion, her clenched fist collided with the man's jaw once more.

On rare occasions, when the moon casts its ethereal glow upon the world, she adorns herself in an exquisite gown, as if stepping into a dream.

Yet, even in this moment of enchantment, there lingers an objection, a discordant note amidst the symphony of elegance. The course of her day had been irrevocably altered, leaving a trail of damage in its wake.

She had come with the intention of having pleasant social interactions, but the presence of an unbearably conceited person quickly foiled her plans. The man stood before her, his eyes widening in astonishment as he beheld the woman's audacious display of strength.

A wave of shock washed over him, for he could scarcely fathom how such a petite figure could possess the power to deliver a blow that could fall on a man of his stature.

He became speechless due to a wave of amazement that overcame him. His gaze fixedn the enigmatic woman standing before him, his jaw clenched tightly in discomfort, while a throbbing ache resonated through his very core.

With a graceful flick of her lustrous mane, Savannah fixed her piercing gaze upon the man, her eyes ablaze with a fiery willpower. In a bold display of defiance, she brazenly extended her hand, forming a gesture that conveyed her utter contempt for him.

And then, with a swift and forceful motion, she delivered a resounding kick to the man's leg, inflicting upon him a renewed surge of pain.

With a venomous glare, the words escaped his lips like a serpent's hiss. "Go to hell, you dunderhead!" Her voice dripped with anger as she spoke.

Her anger burned fiercely within her, consuming her thoughts and fueling her frustration. As she stood before him, her gaze lingering on his form, a glint of determination danced in her eyes. A silent challenge hung in the air, daring him to cross the line. And yet, it was not only him who felt the weight of her scrutiny, but all those around them as well.

For in that moment, she possessed a power that could render him helpless, reducing him to mere fragments of his former self. With each passing second, the possibility of her unleashing her fury upon him grew, threatening to shatter his very existence.

"Next time, you should examine your f*cking eyes; maybe there's still sleep dust in your eyes, and you can't see that not everyone who approaches you Bullshit!" With a disdainful gaze, she swept her eyes over the man, from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet.

"Furthermore," she declared, her voice dripping with derision, "your appearance lacks the necessary allure to warrant any approach."

"You only have a big body, but you're not handsome. Tsk!" Savannah persisted in her relentless assault, hurling a barrage of insults at the man who stood before her, his voice silenced by an inexplicable shock.

With each subtle shift in the woman's countenance, the man's unwavering gaze remains fixed on her. His eyes, unyielding and intense, refuse to be diverted, instead delving deeper into the depths of her being.

Although she changed her expression, her beauty was undeniable, captivating the man's attention so completely that her words fell on deaf ears. Before she departed, he saw her give him the f*ck you sign and say her goodbyes.

"The next time I see your face and you insult me," Savannah's voice dripped with a menacing undertone as she uttered her words, her eyes narrowing with a hint of mischief.

"Rest assured, my dear, there are far more delectable experiences I have in store for you," she threatened, her words laced with a tantalizing promise.

With a fiery sparkle in her eyes, the woman defiantly raised her fist, a potent symbol of menace, before turning on her heel and departing from the scene.

Savannah's footsteps reverberated through the grand hall, each one heavy with the weight of her frustration. She left the opulent party with an unmistakable air of dissatisfaction, and her fists clenched tightly in a silent display of her inner turmoil.

The enigmatic woman, shrouded in an ethereal black aura, possesses an uncanny ability to repel those who dare to cross her path.

She exudes an aura of fear, particularly when adorned in a sleek black halter dress that clings to her form. Her face, engulfed in a furious rage, is uncannily reminiscent of a witch's.

It's her first time at a party, and a man has just ruined it! Never before had she graced the halls of revelry, for her brothers had always been the bane of her social aspirations.

Yet fate had finally bestowed upon her the chance to partake in the merriment of a grand soirée. Alas, her long-awaited moment of jubilation proved to be nothing but a bitter disappointment.

"Bullshit!" she spat, her voice dripping with contempt. "He dares to label me as nothing more than a mere slut." With a fiery glare, she uttered a venomous command, her words dripping with disdain.

"Slut his face!" As Savannah strolled along the corridor, her thoughts swirled like a tempest within her.

"He makes my head hot," she muttered under her breath, her words barely audible amidst the quiet solitude.

With each step, her mind grew heavier, burdened by the weight of her emotions. Seeking solace, she retreated to the sanctuary of her room, hoping to find respite from the turmoil that plagued her soul.

She unleashed a swift and forceful kick on the unsuspecting wall, its sturdy surface trembling under the weight of her frustration. The impact reverberated through the room.

Fortunately, the vigilant gaze of the cruise ship crew had not fallen upon her, for the audacious act she had just committed would undoubtedly have resulted in her swift expulsion from the vessel, plunging her into the depths of the unforgiving ocean.

The woman grabbed the lock of her room and was still panting; she didn't know how she got back here. Her breaths came in slow, deliberate rhythms, as if each inhalation and exhalation held a world of meaning.

She found herself utterly drained, her energy sapped by the relentless presence of that infuriating man. Savannah took a deep breath, willing her racing heart to slow its frantic pace. She closed her eyes, focusing on the rhythmic inhales and exhales that filled her lungs.

With a deep breath, she began to count slowly and deliberately, each number rolling off her tongue like a whispered incantation.

One, two, three... The rhythm of the numbers filled her mind, pushing aside the annoyance that had settled there. Four, five, six... She could feel the tension in her body easing, as if each number held the power to release her from the grip of irritation. Seven...

She took a deep breath, attempting to steady her racing heart. The storm of conflicting emotions that had raged within her moments ago had subsided.

'I'm so beautiful that I'm still a slut. Bullshit him; I feel like I want to go back and punch him again! It's a good thing I'm a black belt in taekwondo; otherwise I wouldn't be able to kick him all the way!' the woman thought before taking the key from her pouch and opening the room she was occupying.

With a strong push, she forcefully closed the door to her room, the sound reverberating through the silence. Exhausted and emotionally drained, she collapsed onto the plush sofa, her body sinking into its comforting embrace.

In a fit of rage, she unleashed a flurry of kicks and punches upon the unsuspecting sofa, her screams resonating through the room.

"What a hell of a night!"

Meanwhile, Phantom found himself confined within the solitude of his room, his countenance etched with an air of tension as his jaw remained resolutely clenched.

He went back to his room and rested. He gingerly pressed the cold compress against his throbbing jaw, wincing as the icy sensation provided a momentary respite from the sharp pain. The room was silent, save for the distant hum of the air conditioner, as he stood there, vulnerable and exposed.

His gaze shifted downward, his hand instinctively reaching for another ice pack, this time to soothe the ache that resonated from a different source. The memory of the woman's forceful kick lingered, a painful reminder of their altercation.

Phantom, consumed by melancholic self-pity, couldn't help but also extend his sympathy towards the woman. In a fit of unbridled fury, he unleashed the tempest of his pent-up emotions upon the unsuspecting woman, a hapless victim of circumstance who bore no responsibility for the brewing storm within him. He even accused her. He comprehended the wellspring of her fury.

The woman in front of him had such overwhelming strength that he was unable to even move his own jaw, which baffled him.

It was not until this very moment that he found himself face-to-face with a woman of such formidable strength, leaving him utterly speechless. The sheer force of her presence had rendered him incapable of uttering a single word as he stood there, overwhelmed by a mixture of astonishment and admiration.

"F*ck! He grumbled, his voice laced with a tinge of caution: "That woman, my friend, is nothing but a harbinger of trouble." He admits it.

The blame lay squarely on his shoulders, for it was his actions that had led to this unfortunate turn of events. The woman, her patience worn thin by his relentless insults, was well within her rights to feel a deep sense of irritation.

He completely messed everything up. Just a few fleeting moments prior, the woman's countenance exuded an air of undeniable danger.

It almost ate his head. Who doesn't get angry when told sl*t without proof?

He sighed, his voice barely a whisper, as he confessed to the depths of his own conscience. "I know," he murmured, his admission hanging heavy in the air. There was no one else to blame but himself, and he couldn't escape the weight of that truth.

He stayed in his room for hours. He found himself lacking the fortitude to confront the assembled multitude, particularly in light of the recent altercation he had engaged in with the woman.

He was sure there were eyes watching him again. Phantom, with a subtle roll of his eyes, succumbed to the weariness that had been tugging at his eyelids. He gently closed his eyes, surrendering himself to the embrace of slumber.

A cacophony of boisterous shouts and the thunderous echo of hurried footsteps abruptly awakened the man from his sleep. Phantom's piercing gaze narrowed, his eyes glinting with determination as he swiftly adorned himself in a pair of beach shorts and a sleek black shirt.

The noise was coming from outside. Caught off guard by the abrupt lurch of the ship, the man's body swayed unsteadily, struggling to maintain its balance. The unexpected motion sent a jolt of surprise through his veins, causing his heart to race in his chest.

His eyes widened, desperately searching for something to steady himself against as the ship continued its relentless dance upon the tumultuous waves. The ship was on its side and seemed to be out of order earlier. The vessel quivered violently, its timbers trembling under the strain.

Phantom noticed the time was one in the morning and heard panicked voices. In that moment, his eyes widened, stretching wider than ever before. With a determined force, he exerted himself to push open the door. A wave of surprise washed over him as he beheld the unexpected sight of water in the lobby.

It was on his knees, and because he opened the door, the water came in. He wasn't just freaking out; it seemed like things were getting worse.

A cacophony of voices filled the air, their desperate cries echoing through the chaos. The clamor of people, their voices raised in urgent pleas, created a symphony of distress. The atmosphere crackled with tension as individuals faces were etched with fear.

"F*ck! His voice was barely a whisper as he uttered the words, his eyes widening in surprise.

The unexpected turn of events caught him off guard, leaving him momentarily speechless. It was as if the world had conspired against him.

Weaving a tapestry of unforeseen circumstances amidst the cacophony of voices that filled the air, one sound stood out above all else: the resounding blow of a mighty force. It reverberated through the atmosphere, accompanied by the howling wind and the relentless patter of raindrops.

"The ocean is indeed very unpredictable," the man said as he did not return to his room. He was looking for a way to save himself. He ran as the water level continued to rise.

The man is now swimming where he was running earlier. Gradually, a sense of fear began to envelop him as he valiantly fought to preserve his own life. He was running and turning, and he couldn't find a way.

He can't use the elevator. With the ship rapidly succumbing to the relentless embrace of the unforgiving sea, he found himself faced with a dire predicament.

Determined to escape the clutches of impending doom, he cast his gaze upon a ladder, its rungs beckoning to him like a lifeline amidst the chaos. With a resolute heart, he ascended the ladder, each step a testament to his unwavering will to survive.

As his gaze fell upon a countenance that stirred a sense of recognition within him, he found himself on the precipice of veering towards the right, where an exit beckoned. Yet, in a sudden twist of fate, he experienced a change of heart.

It was she, the very same woman, who delivered a series of fierce blows with her fists and feet upon him. She lay sprawled on the cold, hard floor, her delicate form crumpled in a heap. A crimson stain marred her once flawless complexion, the viscous liquid smearing across her forehead.

Phantom, burdened by the constraints of time, found himself compelled to seek the assistance of another individual, despite the apparent lack of opportunity to do so.

With a strength born of determination, he lifted the fragile woman into his arms. Her limp and lifeless body seemed to weigh heavily on him, yet he pressed on, undeterred by the burden.

He was holding the woman when she exited. His throat tightened as he swallowed hard, the sound echoing in the silence. When he got out, he only saw the scary waves and the wind blowing the water.

"Sh*t!" The phantom, shrouded in an ethereal veil of darkness, bore the weight of a curse that had haunted him, for The Captain, a figure of authority and command, possessed an unwavering confidence that bordered on arrogance.

In a display of audacity, he chose to gamble with the lives of those aboard his vessel, fully aware of the treacherous weather conditions that loomed ominously overhead.

As his eyes scanned the chaotic scene before him, he bore witness to a disheartening sight. The cabin crew, entrusted with the safety and well-being of their passengers, appeared to be consumed by a self-serving instinct.

In stark contrast to the desperate struggle of the passengers, who fought valiantly for life jackets and a chance at survival, the crew seemed to prioritize their own preservation above all else. Phantom has already found a life jacket and is on his way. The woman was also wearing hers.

"Wait a minute! What in the world is this?" Phantom, his countenance etched with frustration, unleashed a torrent of curses that echoed through the air, each word a venomous lash against the relentless assault of the waves upon the ship.

He had a firm grip on the woman. He was at a loss for what to do. A palpable sense of panic permeated the air, enveloping everyone within its suffocating grasp. Amidst the chaos and turmoil, he too found himself caught in the throes of this collective hysteria.

The man stood frozen in disbelief, his eyes wide with astonishment. The sight before him had left him utterly stunned, his mind struggling to comprehend the reality of what lay before his very eyes. Phantom is powerless to stop raging waves from crashing into the ship.

All the man did was close his eyes, give the woman a tight hug, and allow the waves to carry them. He relinquished control to the whims of fate, allowing it to determine the course of their lives.