He did. I had long since learned that people found it easier to follow an order confidently given than to resist. Fuck the high road. The deck hummed with the quiet compliance of machinery obeying a new set of orders.
I left the captain’s cabin with the same calm I used to dismantle empires. Behind me, the sound of the engines deepened as new coordinates took hold.
TheErebuswas no longer sailing for ARCHEON. She was sailing for the Markovs. For me.
The crew was gathered on the aft deck when I stepped out. No one dared ask why I’d approached them. They didn’t need to. Men like me didn’t have to explain ourselves.
“Good evening,” I said, my tone light, almost pleasant. “Bring me the manifest and the communications log.”
The nearest steward hurried off without a word. The rest watched me the way prey watches a predator decide whether it’s hungry or not. I didn’t need to threaten anyone. I’d already bought their loyalty, and the money would hit their accounts before they finished their next breath. Fear and the promise of fortune did the rest.
By the time I returned to the bridge, the illusion was complete. The captain stood a little straighter. The radios hummed on new frequencies, and every call was already rerouted through my channels. It didn’t matter how, only that it worked. From the outside, we were just another luxury yacht slicing through the Persian Gulf. From the inside, we were untouchable.
I gave one final order—a safety drill. Harmless. Familiar. It gave the crew purpose and distracted them from wondering who, exactly, was giving them commands. Within minutes, whistles blew, feet moved, and order spread like clockwork.
I went to the stern, resting my hands on the cool metal railing. The wake fanned out behind us in silver ribbons, the last lightof this very interesting day breaking on the surface like purple sparks. For the first time in days, I allowed myself a slow breath.
“Fuck ARCHEON,” I said softly. Not for anyone else. Just for the sea.
They’d thought they could control me. That they could use Kara as a leash. They were wrong.
When I stepped back onto the deck, the yacht had become mine in every way that mattered. The crew moved like an extension of my will. TheErebuspointed her bow toward open water, toward freedom, danger, and whatever waited next.
Kara was exactly where I expected her to be, standing near the railing, the wind catching her dark hair. She didn’t look frightened anymore. She looked… curious. A little reckless.
“You staged a coup,” she said, tilting her head.
I smiled. “I prefer to think of it as correcting a power imbalance.”
Her lips curved, half amusement, half disbelief. “That’s one way to describe hijacking a yacht.”
“Hijacking implies theft,” I said as I moved toward her. “This was simply a transfer of contract.”
Her gaze flicked up to mine, curiously assessing. “You really don’t ask for anything, do you?”
“I’ve learned that asking wastes time.”
Her smile deepened. “Efficient.”
“Indeed,” I agreed, and she shook her head.
For the next fifteen minutes, everything moved the way I wanted it to. TheErebuscarved a smooth path through the deep blue water under the rapidly darkening sky. The captain was obedient, the crew efficient, and the yacht mine.
Kara stood near the bow, the wind pulling her hair across her face. Every so often, she looked back at me, that half-smile on her lips, the one that said she still wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or alarmed.
Then the first alarm cut through the air.
A short, mechanical beep. Then another. The hum beneath my feet shifted. The engines dropped pitch, slowing. I crossed the deck in three strides and took the stairs two at a time.
The bridge was chaos in miniature. The autopilot displays flickered; the wheel twitched once, twice, then froze. The captain spun from the console, his face pale. “Sir, the navigation system—it’s locked me out!”
I leaned over his shoulder, scanning the screens. A red banner blinked across the main display:Remote Override Engaged. The coordinates were already changing, turning us back toward the harbor.
No radio signals were transmitting. No controls responded.
Someone had just stolen my ship back.
I didn’t need to ask who.
