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“Impossible, there were four and they attacked us as we tried to dock,” I insisted.

“I say we torture her to find out who hired her to poison Markos’s mind,” Iris said with a cruel smile.

I gaped at her.

“Let me. She’ll talk.” The other woman took a step forward.

“Hold the fuck up,” I snapped. “I’ll talk, but first, you need to get Markos help. He’s lost a lot of blood. “

A suffocating tension filled the air, thickening like a storm cloud about to unleash its fury. I looked between the faces,hoping for a friendly one to hear me out. If the bodies really weren’t there, this looked bad. So bad.

“Lock her up, Iosif. If Markos dies, so does she,” Atlas decreed. Clearly done with the situation, he knelt beside Markos, checking his pulse before examining the wounds.

The small spot of relief in this situation was their combined attention on the bleeding pirate. I let Iosif take me away.

I was in utter disbelief that our perfect day was spiraling into such a distressing conclusion. The sun had set on what had begun as a joyful outing, and now my heart was heavy with dread. As I sat in the car, my words flowed out in a torrent of pleas, each one more frantic than the last, but they were met with an unyielding silence. My companion was unmoved, his resolve like stone. The only sliver of fortune I clung to was that he hadn’t thought to check the pocket of the loose shorts I wore over my swimsuit. That oversight was my lifeline. Later that night, under the cloak of darkness and in the solitude of an unfamiliar room, I managed to compose and send a desperate text. It was my solitary gambit, the lone card I could play in this dire game. After pressing send, all I could do was wait, my heart pounding with anxiety, and hope fervently that help would reach me before it was too late.

Chapter 36 – Markos

The steady, repetitive beep pierced through the enveloping darkness, a rhythmic sound that seemed to reach out and anchor me to reality. I latched onto it, letting its constant presence ground my conscious thought amidst the emptiness. Slowly, awareness began to creep to the edge of my mind, like the first light of dawn breaking through a long night. With this awareness came a sharp, undeniable pain that surged through me, igniting my senses. It was as if my body and mind were awakening together, the pain acting as a catalyst. Alongside the pain came a burst of memory, vivid and intense, flooding back in fragments and flashes, each piece demanding recognition and acknowledgment.

The bullets. The attack. Blood everywhere on the deck of my ship, and—

Her.

With an inhuman effort, I cracked my eyelids. The blinds were shut, but daylight fought to creep through the edges. My fingers inched forward to touch the bandages. The skin on my torso was wicked hot, but I never felt this depth of cold. It saturated my body and made my bones shiver.

“You’re awake.”

I squinted at Atlas, sitting back in a chair across the room. “Where is she?”

Something flickered through his eyes. It was hard to say if it was surprise or anger. The light in here was too dim.

“You’ve had a bad forty-eight hours. The worst is over, but doc says you need to rest.”

He was avoiding the question.

Alarm bells pealed in my mind. I pushed onto my side, biting back the groan of pain. I would not show weakness. “Where the fuck is my wife?”

“If you break the stitches and spike another infection, you might not make it through,” he warned, sitting forward.

“Atlas.”

He blinked. “She escaped.”

Those words sent a rush of panic through me. But as my mind struggled, I realized this might be the best thing for her. The Twelve were not her friends right now. The spotlight was on her, and being left to their mercy would have been disastrous. I leaned back into the pillows.

Serena was defenseless.

I was unable to help her.

“She’s not your target,” I growled.

“The evidence is damning, Markos.”

“What evidence?” I spat.

Atlas swept his hand in my direction.