Chapter 3: The Signal
I counted to sixty after his footsteps disappeared.
Then I counted again.
The yacht rolled gently beneath me.
Outside the porthole, the sky had gone fully dark.
No stars.
The squall Roderick had mentioned was already building somewhere out there in the water.
I got up.
My legs were steadier than I expected.
Whatever Lucas had put in my soup, I had eaten less than half of it.
That may have been the only thing that saved me.
I went back to the vanity and opened the panel.
The communicator was still there.
The signal indicator showed two bars — weak, but present.
My father's voice came back to me from the afternoon he had shown me the device.
*One bar is enough.
Just hold it still and speak clearly.*
I pressed the emergency contact button and held the unit close.
It rang once.
Twice.
"Hello?" My father's voice was rough with sleep.
It was past two in the morning on the East Coast.
"Dad." I kept my voice just above a whisper.
"I need you to listen to me and not ask questions yet."
A pause.
"I'm listening."
"Lucas is going to try to push me off the yacht tonight.
His parents are with him.
They've been putting something in my food since we left San Diego.
The paperwork I signed before the wedding — I think it transferred control of the trust.
I need you to call someone.
Coast Guard, maritime authority, anyone.
And Dad — he said you were going to have other problems soon.
I think they planned something against you too."
Silence.
Long enough that I checked the signal bars.
"Dad?"
"I heard you." His voice had changed entirely.
"Are you safe right now?"
"I'm in the suite.
The door is locked.
But he said before midnight.
I don't know how much time I have."
"Don't unlock that door for anyone.
Not Lucas, not the crew, no one until you hear from me or see a Coast Guard vessel.
Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"Vivienne." He only used my full name when he needed me to hear him completely.
"I installed a secondary lock on that door.
Top of the frame, left side.
Small brass slide bolt.
Lucas doesn't know it's there either."
I looked up.
In the darkness above the door frame, I found it with my fingers.
Cold.
Solid.
I pushed it across.
"It's locked," I said.
"Good." I heard him moving, heard a drawer open.
"I'm calling the Coast Guard now.
Keep this line open if you can.
If the signal drops, do not open that door."
"Dad — the documents I signed.
Can they be undone?"
"That's already handled," he said.
"I had our attorneys review everything two days after the wedding.
When I saw what you'd signed, I filed an emergency petition to void the transfer.
I didn't tell you because I didn't want to frighten you." A short breath.
"I should have told you."
The yacht shuddered.
The squall was getting closer.
"He's going to come back," I said.
"I know.
Stay on the line."
I sat on the floor with my back against the bed and the communicator pressed to my ear.
The cabin light was still off.
I didn't turn it on.
In the dark, I could hear everything — the wind picking up outside, the groan of the hull, and somewhere below, the sound of footsteps moving toward the stairs.
They stopped outside my door.
A knock.
Measured.
Calm.
"Vivienne." Lucas's voice.
"I thought I heard you moving around.
Are you all right?"
I said nothing.
"Vivienne, I'm coming in."
The handle turned.
The door held.
Another knock, harder this time.
"Open the door."
I pressed my hand over the communicator's speaker and held my breath.
Then I heard Roderick's voice, low and close: "Don't force it.
Not yet.
We have time."
Their footsteps moved away down the corridor.
My father's voice came back through the speaker, barely a whisper.
"I heard that.
The Coast Guard cutter is already underway.
Forty minutes."
Forty minutes felt like a country I wasn't sure I could reach.
"Dad," I said quietly.
"How long have you known something was wrong with Lucas?"
He didn't answer right away.
May you like
"Since before the wedding," he finally said.
"I just didn't know how wrong."
