Chapter 4 - Shadows in the Saloon
Cold dread washed over Elena, sobering her senses completely. Locked in. Sedated by design. And a course alteration toward an offshore reef. Victoria wasn't waiting for Bermuda; she was going to stage a secondary tragedy tonight—one where Elena wouldn't wake up in time to escape.
Elena scanned the luxurious cabin. The panoramic windows were sealed hermetically against the ocean. But near the ceiling of the walk-in dressing room, she spotted a small maintenance grate—an access panel for the yacht’s secondary ventilation and wiring shafts that ran along the spine of the vessel.
Adrenaline surged through her veins, overpowering the lingering traces of the sedative. She dragged a heavy leather ottoman into the closet, stepped onto it, and grabbed an antique silver shoehorn from Julian’s dressing rack. Using the shoehorn as a makeshift lever, she pried at the screws holding the vent in place until the metal grate popped open with a dull snap.
Elena pulled herself into the narrow, dark crawlspace. The air inside the shaft was warm and smelled of hydraulic oil and salt. Crawling on her stomach, her knees scraping against the aluminum ducts, she navigated by the faint vibration of the engines below.
After ten minutes of agonizing, claustrophobic crawling, she arrived above the main library and office—Victoria’s private sanctum on the upper deck. Through the narrow slats of the ceiling vent, Elena looked down into the dimly lit room.
Victoria Montgomery was seated behind an exquisite mahogany desk, swirling a glass of amber scotch. Standing across from her was Captain Miller, looking visibly pale and sweating profusely despite the cool air conditioning.
“It’s too risky, Victoria,” Captain Miller muttered, clutching the rim of his captain’s cap. “Julian survived the jump. If the girl suddenly dies in her sleep from an overdose, or if we stage a mechanical fire in the master cabin, the maritime investigators will tear this ship apart. Julian has the resources to hire federal forensic teams!”
Victoria took a slow, deliberate sip of her drink, her eyes flashing with cold disgust. “Julian is a child who thinks with his heart. When his little peasant bride dies of ‘delayed pulmonary edema’ caused by salt water in her lungs, he will be devastated. He will grieve. And then, he will inherit the grandfather’s trust—in full.”
Elena stopped breathing. *The grandfather’s trust.*
“And if the girl lives?” Miller asked, his hands shaking. “If Julian insists on staying married to her?”
Victoria slammed her glass onto the desk, the sound echoing through the vent like a gunshot. “The trust stipulates that Julian must be married to a woman approved by the Board of Trustees by his thirtieth birthday, or the entire Montgomery estate defaults to my private foundation! Elena Vance refused my settlement of ten million dollars to walk away. She thought she was being romantic. She didn’t realize that her little fairy tale costs me half a billion dollars in liquid capital!”
Victoria stood up, walking toward the large floor-to-ceiling glass doors overlooking the stormy night sea.
“Julian will never sign the proxy over to her. By dawn, Elena Vance will suffer fatal complications from her ‘accident.’ Dr. Harrison has already prepared the medical log. You will steer the ship toward the shoals outside Bermuda’s radar zone to buy us a four-hour communication blackout. Is that clear, Captain?”
Captain Miller swallowed hard, looking at the floor. “Yes, ma’am.”
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“Good,” Victoria said softly, turning back with a smile that chilled Elena to her core. “Now go up to the bridge. I’m going to pay my dear daughter-in-law one final visit.”
***
