Chapter 5 - MY FATHER CAME HUNTING
The first collision tore open part of the lower hull.
The second could have killed us.
“Port engine full reverse!” Alvarez shouted.
The chief engineer answered through static.
“Pressure unstable!”
“Give me whatever you have!”
The Aurora shuddered.
Metal screamed beneath us.
Flynn sat handcuffed near the wall.
He smiled.
Actually smiled.
“If I’m going down,” he said, “you’re coming with me.”
I crossed the bridge and slapped him.
Hard.
His head snapped sideways.
The room went silent.
I had never hit another person in my life.
It felt surprisingly clarifying.
“If this yacht sinks,” I said, “you’re getting on the first life raft so you can live long enough to watch everything you wanted disappear.”
His smile vanished.
Alvarez fought the helm.
The bow rotated.
Thirty degrees.
Forty.
Another wave slammed us toward the reef.
“Come on,” he whispered.
The port engine screamed.
Then the Aurora swung free.
A jagged rock scraped the hull instead of striking directly.
Everyone exhaled.
Temporarily safe.
Not rescued.
We still had no communications.
The bridge console was destroyed.
The backup radio was missing.
The tender emergency unit had been removed.
But Flynn had forgotten one thing.
Human greed.
The guard named Cole was found in engineering carrying a waterproof bag containing the missing emergency radio.
He hadn’t destroyed it.
He planned to steal it.
Because apparently a marine emergency radio worth several thousand dollars still mattered to a man helping murder a billionaire’s daughter.
The chief engineer brought it to the bridge at 1:06 a.m.
Alvarez activated it.
“Mayday, mayday, mayday. Motor yacht Aurora transmitting emergency distress…”
Static answered.
He repeated coordinates.
Again.
Again.
At 1:12, a voice finally broke through.
“Unidentified vessel, repeat call sign.”
Everyone on the bridge froze.
Alvarez smiled.
“Aurora. Alpha Uniform Romeo Oscar Romeo Alpha.”
The response came stronger.
“Aurora, distress received.”
I closed my eyes.
For the first time since overhearing Flynn, I allowed myself to believe I might see morning.
Coast Guard authorities in the region coordinated with nearby vessels.
A commercial tanker changed course.
A patrol vessel was several hours away.
We stabilized the Aurora.
Crew members treated injuries.
Flynn, Aidan, Fiona, Cole, and Brennan were separated and guarded.
And I sat alone in the dining salon at 2:40 in the morning wearing crew clothes, staring at the remains of our wedding cake.
Someone had placed it inside a glass display refrigerator.
White icing.
Sugar flowers.
A gold H for Hayes.
I opened the refrigerator.
Took out the cake.
Then threw it directly into the garbage.
Mara entered behind me.
“You know that cost four thousand dollars.”
“Best money I’ve wasted all week.”
She laughed.
Then winced.
The bullet had grazed her side.
Bandaged, painful, but not life-threatening.
I hugged her.
For several seconds neither of us spoke.
Finally I whispered, “Thank you.”
“You would’ve done the same.”
“I don’t know.”
“I do.”
She sat.
“What happens now?”
I looked through the dark windows.
“Now I save my parents.”
At 3:15, the emergency radio connected us with a regional Coast Guard relay that allowed a satellite telephone patch.
I called my father.
He answered on the first ring.
“Evelyn?”
His voice broke on my name.
“Dad.”
“Where are you?”
“Aboard Aurora.”
“I know. I’ve been tracking you. The course changed. Captain Ward stopped responding. I’ve had people trying to reach the vessel for hours.”
“I’m alive.”
Silence.
Then I heard my father cry.
Charles Sterling did not cry.
Not at funerals.
Not when his company nearly collapsed during the recession.
Not even when he survived emergency heart surgery.
But he cried when I said those words.
“I’m alive.”
My mother came onto the line.
“Evelyn?”
“Mom.”
“Oh my God.”
“Listen to me. Both of you.”
My voice hardened.
“Cancel the mountain trip.”
Dad immediately understood.
“Why?”
“They planned something.”
“Who?”
“Flynn. His parents.”
I told them about the brake sabotage.
My father’s voice changed into the tone that had terrified corporate executives for thirty years.
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll handle it.”
“No. Police handle it.”
A pause.
“Yes.”
I knew my father.
Charles Sterling had enough money to make problems disappear.
Tonight, I needed problems very visible.
“Dad, Flynn said he transferred money using the power of attorney.”
“I froze everything twenty minutes ago.”
I stared at the phone.
“You knew?”
“I found inconsistencies yesterday.”
“Captain Ward said you suspected Flynn before we left.”
Silence.
My anger rose.
“You knew there was something wrong and you didn’t tell me?”
“I suspected financial manipulation. Not murder.”
“You should’ve told me.”
“You were getting married.”
“That’s exactly when you should’ve told me!”
My voice cracked.
Mara quietly left the room.
Dad whispered, “You’re right.”
I wasn’t prepared for him to admit it.
“I thought I could investigate quietly without destroying your happiness if I was wrong.”
“You almost attended my funeral instead.”
“I know.”
We stayed silent.
Then he said, “I’m coming.”
“What?”
“I’m already in the air.”
Of course he was.
“Where?”
“Private aircraft from Miami. We’ll land in San Juan and coordinate from there.”
“Dad—”
“You’re my daughter.”
The sentence ended all arguments.
Just before sunrise, the storm weakened.
At 6:22 a.m., a patrol vessel reached us.
Officers boarded the Aurora.
They separated witnesses.
Collected weapons.
Photographed damage.
Recovered my crushed recorder.
Copied Mara’s recording.
Photographed Captain Ward’s injury.
Seized medication from Flynn’s luggage.
The investigation began before the sun had fully risen.
Flynn said nothing.
Aidan demanded an attorney.
Fiona cried continuously.
Cole tried to negotiate.
Brennan blamed everyone.
By 9:00 a.m., I was transported by patrol vessel toward Puerto Rico.
Flynn sat restrained at the opposite end.
For nearly an hour, he refused to look at me.
Then he smiled.
“You’re forgetting something.”
I ignored him.
“Evelyn.”
I looked over.
“What?”
“Cecilia.”
My chest tightened.
“You heard Dad.”
“Yes.”
“She knows things you don’t.”
“Good.”
“No.”
Flynn leaned forward as far as his restraints allowed.
“She knows something about your father.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
His smile returned.
“Ask Charles Sterling why he really approved our marriage.”
I laughed.
“My father hated you.”
“Eventually.”
“What are you talking about?”
Flynn’s voice dropped.
“He knew my family before you ever met me.”
I stopped breathing.
“No.”
“Ask him about 1998.”
“I was a baby.”
“Exactly.”
A guard ordered Flynn to sit back.
He obeyed.
But his eyes stayed on mine.
“Ask your father what happened to my brother.”
My skin turned cold.
“What brother?”
Flynn smiled.
“The one Charles Sterling buried.”
Hours later, when I finally stepped onto the dock in San Juan, my parents were waiting.
Mom ran toward me.
Dad followed.
I fell into their arms.
For a moment I was six years old again.
Safe.
Loved.
Home.
Then I remembered Flynn’s words.
I pulled away.
My father looked at me.
“What is it?”
“Who was Flynn’s brother?”
Dad went completely still.
My mother whispered, “Charles.”
I stared between them.
“You know.”
Dad closed his eyes.
And just like that, the nightmare changed.
Flynn hadn’t chosen my family randomly.
May you like
This wasn’t only about money.
It had started twenty-eight years before our wedding.
