Page 14

Chapter Thirteen

The yacht was nothing short of breathtaking. Sleek and gleaming, its hull shimmered in the midday sun, and the faint scent of saltwater mixed with the tang of freshly polished teakwood. At nearly a hundred and fifty feet long, it was a floating palace, complete with multiple decks, a sprawling sun lounge, and gleaming chrome railings. Staff in crisp white uniforms moved with quiet precision, offering champagne flutes and chilled towels to guests who had already arrived.

Andrew and I were the last to board. As we stepped onto the main deck, we were greeted by a hum of chatter and clinking glasses. I scanned the faces quickly, taking in Victor, Paula, Bennett, Colin, and Harper, who were gathered near the bow, along with a handful of others. Allison stood close to Bennett, laughing lightly at something he said, her posture loose, her confidence tangible. I couldn’t help noticing how seamlessly she fit in, as if she’d been part of this circle for years.

Andrew offered Allison a polite nod when she greeted him, but it was perfunctory at best. There was an uneasiness between them. It was subtle enough I doubted anyone else noticed, but I felt it like a thorn beneath my skin.

"Lauren," Victor said warmly as he approached, his smile wide and welcoming. "Good to see you up and about. Andrew told us you weren’t feeling well last night. How are you?"

"I’m doing better. Thanks for asking."

"I can’t believe Sally threw you. She’s one of our gentlest horses."

"She was spooked by something," I replied.

"That was unfortunate," Victor said. "I’m glad you weren’t seriously hurt."

He seemed genuinely upset by the idea of me being injured, which touched me. I knew I was being included in these activities because of the marketing campaign, but his words did make me feel like he saw me as an individual, not just a business associate.

"I'll be fine," I said. "How far out will we be going today?"

"We'll cruise for about an hour and then turn around and come back. It's a little choppy today, but hopefully not too many bumps."

"I'm excited to be out on the water," I said as the yacht moved out of the harbor. "Thank you for inviting us."

"Of course. Why don't you come and meet my friends?" he suggested, leading us over to a spacious sitting area on the top deck, offering an uninterrupted view of the sparkling ocean.

The seating arrangement was elegant but casual, with curved sofas upholstered in soft cream fabric and low glass-topped tables. A silver-haired man in his sixties lounged comfortably with an air of affluence, a tanned arm draped over the back of the couch. Beside him sat a woman at least twenty years his junior, dark-eyed and striking in a turquoise sundress that showed off her toned arms.

"This is David Grimes," Victor said, clapping the man on the shoulder. "And his lovely girlfriend, Kirstie."

"It’s nice to meet you both," I said, sitting down beside Andrew on a small loveseat adjacent to their couch.

Victor and Paula took the armchairs across from us, completing the cozy but carefully staged tableau. Kirstie leaned forward slightly, her lips curving into a flirtatious smile that seemed more practiced than genuine.

"Victor and I have known each other for over forty years," David said, his voice deep and smooth. "He’s like a brother to me."

"Longer than I’ve been alive," Kirstie chimed in with a laugh, resting her hand lightly on David’s knee.

"Don’t remind me how old I am," David replied, though his smile was indulgent.

"You’re the one who outdoes me in the gym every day," Kirstie said, giving him an adoring look.

They made a striking pair—David with his tailored linen shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal a hint of a tanned chest, and Kirstie with her sleek ponytail and gleaming skin.

"You arrived this morning?" Andrew asked.

David nodded. "We were supposed to get in last night, but our flight out of New York was delayed, so we stayed in LA overnight and caught the morning ferry. We've barely had time to see the resort, but from what I’ve seen so far, it’s spectacular."

Victor’s face lit with pride at the compliment. "It’s paradise, David. One of the best resorts I've ever developed, and I plan on spending a lot of time here." He paused, his gaze drifting toward his wife. Something unsaid passed between them—perhaps tension over Victor’s decision to spend more time on the island. Paula’s tight-lipped smile seemed to suggest she wasn’t entirely on board with her husband’s plans, but she remained silent.

"While I'm interested in exploring the resort," David said, cutting through the sudden tension in the air. "I also can't wait to see the new pieces in your collection, Victor. You've been unusually secretive about what you've recently acquired."

Victor laughed and gave his friend a sly smile. "I wanted to tempt you into coming out here. You've been hard to pin down for a get-together."

"Kirstie and I have been traveling a lot," David said.

"Well, I'm happy you were able to make the time now."

"Can you give me a hint about what new treasures you've picked up?" David asked.

I was curious what Victor would say, but our conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Megan and her media team. I hadn't realized they were even on the yacht.

Andrew immediately went into groom mode, putting his arm around me as we posed for the camera. After several shots with the group, Victor encouraged Megan to take us around the yacht and get more photos and videos done before lunch was served.

For the next forty minutes, we took romantic photos all over the yacht, wrapped in each other's arms, kissing each other, and posing in odd ways to catch the light at just the right angle. With each passing minute, the pain in my hip spread to my leg and back, and when we were done, I was pretty much in agony.

Andrew glanced at me and frowned. "What's wrong? You look like you're going to cry."

I wanted to cry from the pain, but I couldn't do that. "I wish I could get off this boat and go lie down."

He wrapped his arms around me and gave me a hug. "You need to take the medication I gave you. Then we'll get some lunch. You'll sit. You'll rest. You'll take a breath. You can do this."

I drew in a deep breath and let it out. "I know I have to do it," I said.

"This is what we signed up for," he reminded me.

He walked me over to the table where I'd set down my bag. While I retrieved the medication, he got me a bottle of water. I took two pills and then said, "Okay, let's go to lunch."

The pain started to ease about halfway through lunch, to the point where I actually felt like I could converse and eat something without throwing up. I was sitting between Andrew and Harper, who had pretty much let me just be quiet. Harper was talking to Colin on her other side, and Andrew was engaged in conversation with the outgoing Kirstie. I was relieved that Allison was seated at a second table on the other side of the deck with Megan, Bennett, and the media guests.

"More champagne?" a steward asked, interrupting my thoughts.

"I'm okay."

"Have another glass," Harper said, speaking to me for the first time in a while. But that was probably because Colin had gotten up and left the table. "It might help you relax."

At her words, the steward filled my glass, and I took a small sip. Then I said, "How are things going with you and Colin?"

"So good," she said happily. "We get along really well. He's smart and funny. I feel like he's always one step ahead of me, which is challenging. It makes me realize how my ex was really never at my level intellectually. I always had to explain things to him. But Colin gets me, and I like that he's sarcastic, too."

"I'm glad you're getting along."

"We are." Harper glanced around me to see if Andrew was listening, but he'd left the table, probably to go to the restroom. Kirstie was talking to her husband now.

Still, Harper lowered her voice as she said, "Allison and Andrew fought last night at the bonfire."

My gut tightened. "How do you know that?"

"I overheard part of it before she dragged him down to the beach."

"What did you hear?"

"He told her to leave the island, but she said she wouldn't go, and he can't make her. I asked Colin about their relationship, and he said she and Andrew hooked up last year, and she's still stuck on Andrew. Colin thinks she's trying to use Andrew to get closer to Victor, which seems to be working. She is on the yacht with us."

My gaze moved to the other table, where Bennett and Allison had their heads together, conversing about something. She had definitely gotten into the Carrington inner circle, even though Bennett had seemed leery of her yesterday when he'd asked me about her. Apparently, her charm and beauty had wiped away all his doubts.

"Lauren?" Harper asked, bringing my gaze back to hers. "You're not worried about her and Andrew, are you?"

"Not worried, exactly. But I wish she didn't keep turning up everywhere we go. He said it was over between them before he even met me."

"It is weird that he invited her if they had hooked up. Who invites their ex to their wedding?"

"He said she pushed to come because she wanted an introduction to Victor in a more casual setting. He was helping her out." I paused as Andrew slipped back into the seat next to me.

He gave me a curious look. "What did I miss?"

"Girl talk," I said vaguely.

He smiled. "Okay, keep your secrets. The captain has invited anyone who is interested to come up to the bridge for a tour. Do you want to go?"

"No. I don't want to walk anywhere else."

"I want to go," Harper said eagerly. "Colin probably does, too, but I don't see him."

"He's already on his way up there. He told me to get you and meet him up top."

"Are you okay here by yourself?" Harper asked as she stood up.

"More than okay," I said, happy when they both left. The pain was finally starting to let go and my muscles were beginning to relax, so relaxed that I definitely did not feel like trying to walk anywhere. Despite the woozy feeling overtaking me, I was happy to get some relief from what had been unremitting pain.

I sipped on my champagne and spooned up the cooling, tasty sorbet that had been placed for me, and I was startled when Allison suddenly slid into the chair next to me.

"Lauren, we finally have a chance to talk," she said. "I heard about your accident yesterday. That sounds terrifying."

"It was scary, but I'm okay."

"You don't look that good. Are you in pain?"

"It's getting better." Clearing my throat, I decided that I might as well try to get to know her better since she refused to go away. "I'm glad we're getting a chance to talk. I was wondering how long you and Andrew have known each other."

"Several years," she replied, giving me a thoughtful look. "He hasn't told you anything about me, has he?"

"He said you've worked together on occasion."

She took a sip from the champagne glass in her hand, then gave me a smug smile. "Andrew and I have been more than work associates, more than friends. I think you probably suspected that. And I'm guessing he didn't tell you he invited me to the wedding, did he? I could sense you were surprised to see me, maybe even a little unhappy."

I wasn't going to admit to that. "Andrew told me you're trying to work for Victor, that your invitation was to get you an introduction to the Carringtons."

"That was part of it," she said. "And it looks like Victor is going to hire me. Well, actually, Bennett is. We had a great conversation this morning. Do you know Bennett well?"

"Not well at all."

"He's an interesting man. Smarter than I thought he would be. And very ambitious. I've always liked that in a man. It's what I like about Andrew, too. He has big goals, and he knows how to get what he wants. He is also patient…not reckless, but very deliberate. Every move he makes is calculated."

Goose bumps ran down my arms. I needed to shut her up because she was bringing my worries back, and my head was starting to feel too thick to think clearly. "Look, I don't know what was between you two, Allison, but Andrew and I are married. We love each other, so if you have a problem with either of us, maybe you should leave the island or at the very least, stay away from us. I won't let you come between me and my husband."

"Oh, honey, I am not the problem you should be worrying about," she said with a condescending and secretive smile.

Allison acted like she knew something I didn't, and I had a feeling she probably did, which made me feel even worse and a little sick to my stomach.

"I need to use the restroom. Do you know where it is?" I asked.

She hesitated, then said, "It's downstairs." She tipped her head to the nearby stairwell. "You should go now. You look very pale. I hope I haven't upset you. I actually feel a little bad for you. You have no idea what's going on."

Her words swirled around in my head. "Excuse me," I said, putting a hand to my mouth as another wave of nausea hit me. I hurried to the stairs, descending to the next level. A hallway greeted me, and an open door at the end of it. I stumbled down the corridor until I entered the empty stateroom and moved as quickly as I could to the bathroom. I immediately threw up, feeling even worse after that.

I washed my hands and splashed cold water on my face, but it did little to clear the fog clouding my brain. The icy sting of the water prickled my skin, but it felt distant, muted, like everything else around me. It wasn’t just the ache in my hip and leg that bothered me—it was also the dizziness, the heavy, lethargic pull that gripped my body and wouldn’t let go. My limbs felt like dead weight, and each breath was labored. I gripped the edge of the marble sink for balance, my fingers slick against its smooth, wet surface.

The thought of walking back up the stairs felt impossible. For a fleeting moment, I was tempted to collapse onto the perfectly made bed in the stateroom. But no. If I lie down now, I might not get back up. I couldn’t pass out on Victor's yacht, surrounded by media people, cameras, and everyone who’d been watching my every move since the wedding.

I forced myself to move, stepping back into the narrow hallway. The sway of the boat made everything worse, my equilibrium spinning with every slight tilt of the floor beneath my feet. I dragged my palm along the wall, using it like a lifeline as I stumbled forward.

Then I heard voices.

Male voices, muffled, coming from behind a closed door a few steps away.

I froze, steadying myself against the wall. Maybe they could help me upstairs—or at least back to Andrew. But something in the hushed tones stopped me from knocking.

"Your greed is making you reckless," one man said.

"I know what I’m doing," another man replied, his tone firm, dismissive. "The reward is more than worth the risk."

I frowned, my pulse skipping. The voices were familiar, but in my muddled state, I couldn’t place them.

"What about the investigator?" the first man asked.

"I’ll take care of him."

My stomach dropped. Take care of him ? Were they talking about Ethan?

I pressed closer to the wall, tilting my head toward the door.

"I hope you know what you’re doing," the first voice said again. "This could all go very wrong."

"Or very right," the other man countered. "Thank you for your help."

"I owed you one."

"More than one."

"Well, you always know where to collect."

"I do. We should go."

I realized with a jolt they were about to come out. Panic surged through me. If they caught me standing there, eavesdropping, what would they do? My heart thundered as I stumbled away from the door, my hand catching the corner of the wall to steady myself.

I saw a side door to the lower deck and pushed it open, stepping into the sharp, salty wind. The ocean breeze whipped my hair across my face, stinging my skin like needles. The fresh air hit my lungs like a slap, momentarily shaking me out of my fog.

Who had been in that stateroom, and what had they been talking about? My mind wrestled sluggishly with the fragments of conversation. And who had been speaking? One had sounded like Victor or maybe Bennett. Although, it could have been someone else entirely.

I moved unsteadily down the corridor, the deck beneath my feet slick with sea spray. Before I realized it, I was standing on a swim platform at the stern of the boat, the waves crashing a few feet below me. The sound of the ocean was deafening here, a rhythmic roar that drowned out the faint laughter and music from the upper deck. I was completely alone.

The world tilted again, the platform swaying violently beneath me. I stumbled toward the railing, my palms slamming against the cold, wet metal. My breath came in short, gasping bursts as I fought to steady myself. My vision blurred. The horizon tilted. What on earth was wrong with me?

I leaned heavily against the rail, the cold steel biting into my palms. The water churned below, dark and ominous, the foam-tipped waves pulling and tugging as if they wanted to drag me under.

I needed to go back upstairs, to find Andrew. He would help me. He would take care of me.

I turned—or tried to. My feet felt heavy, uncooperative. I staggered, disoriented, and suddenly realized I was standing at the very edge of the platform. One wrong step and I’d be in the water. My heart thudded in warning, a sharp pulse of clarity cutting through the haze.

And then I felt a presence behind me. A hand on my back. Relief flooded through me. Andrew.

I swayed slightly, leaning back into the touch. He’d catch me. He always did . But there was no warmth behind me. No strong arms pulling me to safety. The hand pressed harder against my back, shoving me forward with sudden, brutal force. My arms flailed as I lost my balance. I tried to grab the railing, but it was too far away. A strangled scream tore from my throat as I tumbled forward.

For one heart-stopping moment, there was nothing. Just the cold, salty air rushing past me. And then I hit the water, and the ocean swallowed me whole.