Chương 6
A voice I had never heard before.
“Evelyn Sterling.”
My body went cold.
“Your husband is not the only person who needs you dead.”
For a moment, I could not move.
The voice outside the door was unfamiliar, but the words carried a certainty that made my skin tighten.
Not a threat made in anger.
A statement made by someone who believed the outcome was already decided.
The security officer spoke quickly.
“Ms. Sterling, do not engage.”
I kept my eyes on the door.
“Who is that?”
“We are attempting to identify the person.”
The stranger knocked again.
“Evelyn, you need to understand something.”
I stepped farther away.
The lamp in my hand felt ridiculous.
A piece of glass against whatever was waiting outside.
But holding it made me feel less helpless.
“You're making this harder than it needs to be,” the stranger said.
I looked at the locked door.
“How do you know my name?”
No answer came immediately.
That bothered me more than if he had responded.
People who wanted to frighten you usually rushed.
People who wanted control waited.
The door suddenly shook.
Not enough to break.
Enough to remind me that locks only worked if the person outside respected them.
“Ms. Sterling,” the security officer said.
His voice was controlled, but I heard the urgency underneath.
“We are overriding interior access restrictions.”
“How long?”
“Thirty seconds.”
Thirty seconds had never felt like a real measurement before.
It was not time.
It was a distance between safety and disaster.
I looked around the room.
The honeymoon suite.
The flowers Flynn had ordered.
The clothes I had carefully packed.
The photograph turned face down.
Everything looked like evidence from another person's life.
A knock came again.
This time, Flynn's voice joined the stranger's.
“Evelyn.”
My stomach dropped.
He was not inside.
But he was close.
“You don't know what you're dealing with.”
I almost laughed.
The sentence sounded absurd coming from him.
The man who had planned my death was warning me about danger.
“Did you know about him?” I called back.
Silence.
That was the answer.
Flynn knew.
Maybe not everything.
Maybe not the whole plan.
But enough.
“Flynn?”
No response.
The stranger outside spoke.
“Your husband has been trying to protect himself.”
I tightened my grip on the lamp.
“By killing me?”
Another pause.
“By preventing a larger problem.”
I hated that phrase.
Larger problem.
People used words like that when they wanted to make terrible things sound reasonable.
I heard a faint mechanical sound from the door.
The lock system.
The security team was working.
“Twenty seconds,” the officer said.
The stranger outside must have heard something because his voice changed.
The confidence disappeared.
“Evelyn, listen to me.”
I waited.
“Your father was not investigating fraud.”
The sentence stopped me.
“What?”
“He was investigating a murder.”
My hand lowered slightly.
“Whose?”
The stranger did not answer.
Then Flynn spoke.
“Don't listen to him.”
His voice was different.
Not the controlled husband.
Not the careful liar.
Something closer to panic.
The officer said,
“Ten seconds.”
I moved closer to the door.
Not because I trusted anyone outside.
Because I needed information.
“What murder?”
The stranger answered.
“Your father's.”
Everything inside me went quiet.
My father.
The word itself felt impossible.
My father was alive.
He had called me before the cruise.
He had complained about my decision to leave my phone behind during dinner.
He had joked that billionaires needed vacation rules because nobody could ever truly stop working.
“He's alive,” I whispered.
The stranger did not respond.
That frightened me.
The lock clicked.
The door opened three inches before the security system stopped it.
A man's hand appeared in the gap.
The officer shouted through the speaker.
“Move away from the entrance.”
The hand disappeared.
Then footsteps moved away.
I stood there breathing hard.
The door remained closed.
The immediate danger had passed.
But the new fear stayed.
I turned back toward the speaker.
“What did he mean?”
The officer was silent.
“Tell me.”
“We are checking the information.”
“No.”
My voice shook.
“No more waiting.”
I walked toward the hidden speaker.
“I have been lied to by everyone on this yacht.”
The truth of that sentence hurt.
Even saying everyone.
Because part of me still wanted Flynn to be the exception.
“We need to verify.”
“My father.”
I swallowed.
“If something happened to him, I need to know.”
The officer finally answered.
“Your father is alive.”
I closed my eyes.
Relief came so quickly it almost made me weak.
Then I noticed something.
The officer had answered too carefully.
“Alive where?”
A pause.
“Ms. Sterling.”
“Where is he?”
“We have not confirmed his location.”
The relief disappeared.
“What does that mean?”
“It means we know he was alive when our last communication was received.”
“When?”
The silence told me the answer was bad.
“Two days ago.”
The room felt colder.
My father had spoken to me three days ago.
Before the cruise.
Before I lost control of my own life.
Two days ago meant something had happened after I left.
“Why didn't anyone tell me?”
“Because your father instructed us not to interfere unless you activated the emergency system.”
I stared at the speaker.
“He knew?”
“Yes.”
My throat tightened.
“He knew Flynn was dangerous?”
“We believe your father suspected someone close to you was compromised.”
I sat down slowly.
The idea was almost worse than the murder plan.
My father had seen something coming.
He had prepared for it.
And he had let me board the yacht anyway.
“He could have stopped the wedding.”
“Yes.”
The answer was immediate.
“Then why didn't he?”
The officer did not answer.
I already knew.
Because my father had spent my entire life trying to protect me without controlling me.
Because he knew if he accused Flynn without proof, I would defend him.
Because I had loved Flynn.
Because I had chosen him.
The realization hurt in a different way.
May you like
My father had trusted my judgment.
And my judgment had failed me.
