Chapter 3 - The Staircase Confession
By early afternoon, the withdrawal of the drugs began to clear my mind, leaving behind a sharp, biting panic.
I needed to find Flynn.
I needed to look him in the eye while my head was clear and see what was hiding behind his perfect smile.
I slipped out of the suite, keeping my footsteps light on the plush carpet.
The yacht was eerily quiet.
I made it as far as the curved brass staircase overlooking the main salon.
That was when I heard Aidan Mercer’s voice.
"How are you managing the dosage?"
I froze.
My hand clamped onto the brass railing.
Below me, Flynn sat in a cream leather armchair, swirling a glass of amber liquid.
Aidan, his father, stood by the bar.
Fiona, his mother, was lounging on the sofa, filing her manicured nails.
Flynn laughed softly.
"Two pills every night," he answered. "A little extra in her soup at lunch. By midnight, she won't know where she is."
My heart stopped beating.
The air in my lungs turned to ice.
Fiona didn't even look up from her nails.
"Tonight, then?" she asked.
"Tonight," Flynn replied casually.
He took a sip of his drink.
"There’s a storm coming after midnight. Everyone will stay inside. I’ll take Claire to the aft deck."
"To look at the stars?" Aidan chuckled darkly.
"Fresh air for the nausea," Flynn corrected, his tone entirely bored.
"And then?" Fiona asked.
"One push. The ocean does the rest."
I squeezed my eyes shut, praying I was having a nightmare.
But the brass railing under my hand was cold and real.
"And the money?" Fiona asked, blowing dust off her fingernail.
Flynn leaned back in his chair.
"I already have the power of attorney. Once she’s declared lost at sea, I move the trust assets before Charles Sterling can challenge anything."
My father.
They were going to steal my family's legacy.
"Charles is a paranoid man," Aidan warned. "He won't just accept it."
Flynn smiled.
It was the exact same smile he had given me at the altar.
"He won't have to accept it for long."
"What about her mother?" Fiona asked.
Flynn’s answer came without a single second of hesitation.
"They leave for Aspen next week. Brake line. Mountain road. Tragic old-money accident."
I clapped both hands over my mouth to smother the gasp tearing its way up my throat.
Three murders.
Planned over afternoon drinks.
By the people who had hugged me, toasted me, and called me family just days ago.
Flynn's chair scraped against the hardwood floor.
"I should check on Sleeping Beauty."
Footsteps moved toward the stairs.
Panic exploded in my chest.
If he caught me listening, I wouldn't make it to midnight.
I would go over the railing right now.
My legs were still weak, trembling from the residual drugs.
I couldn't outrun him.
I couldn't fight him.
May you like
So I fell.
I staggered two steps backward into the hallway, let my knees buckle, and collapsed onto the thick carpet.
