Chapter 2 - The InterrogationDavid curled into a fetal position on the cabin floor, whimpering as the reality of his ruined plan set in. The billionaire playboy, accustomed to bending boardrooms and women to his will with a flick of his platinum card, was reduced to a weeping mess by a five-foot-eight woman in a white cocktail dress and designer heels.

"What... what are you going to do?" he choked out, wiping blood across his cheek and smearing it like war paint.

I walked over to the mini-bar, poured myself a glass of ice water, and took a slow, deliberate sip. I needed a clear head. We were three miles out into international waters, hours away from the nearest port, locked inside a floating fortress where David thought he was king.

"First," I said, turning around to face him, "we are going to fix that nose. You look messy."

"You broke it!"

"I adjusted it," I corrected smoothly. "Second, you are going to tell me every single thing your father told you to do on this trip. Every plan, every contingency, every single person on this ship who is on your payroll."

David flinched. His eyes widened just a fraction—a microscopic tell that screamed confirmation.

Bingo.

"You think you're smart, Sarah," David sneered, bitterness temporarily overpowering his fear as he realized I had caught onto his web. "You think because you know how to throw a punch, you've won? My father owns half the maritime security on this vessel. The captain answers to him. The security chief owes his entire career to him. You think you can walk out of this cabin? The moment you open that door, you're walking into a trap."

I stared at him for a long, quiet moment. Then, a slow smile spread across my face.

"David," I murmured, walking over and tossing the aluminum bat casually onto the bed. "You really have no idea who I am, do you? My father didn't teach me how to keep a woman in line. My father was a Master Gunnery Sergeant who spent thirty years hunting ghosts in the dark. And the men you hired?"

I leaned down, grabbing him by the collar of his ruined shirt and hauling him upright until our eyes met.

"I used to train guys like them for breakfast."

Before he could process the threat, a heavy, urgent knock echoed from the cabin door.

Bang, bang, bang.

"Mr. Davis?" a gruff voice called out from the hallway. "Everything alright in there? We heard a loud noise."

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His chest tightened, a sharp, cold panic piercing through the expensive...

The silence of the boutique hotel room was a heavy, suffocating blanket....

The silence stretched for three agonizing seconds before I found my voic...

David’s face lit up with a desperate, triumphant grin. "It's security," he whispered, a mad glint returning to his eyes. "You're dead. Open the door and you're dead."

I pressed my finger to my lips, winked, and whispered, "Watch and learn."