Chapter 3 - The Man Below Deck
I froze beneath the swim platform.
Water streamed from my hair into my eyes, but I did not move to wipe it away.
The lower-deck door opened.
A man stepped outside.
I could see only his polished brown shoes and the lower edge of gray trousers through the narrow gap between the platform and the hull.
Ryan’s voice changed immediately.
The panic disappeared.
Respect replaced it.
“You were supposed to stay hidden.”
“I was supposed to make sure you followed instructions.”
The man’s voice was low and controlled. Older than Ryan’s. Educated. Familiar enough to tighten something inside my chest.
Vanessa moved closer.
“Who is this?”
Ryan ignored her.
The stranger did not.
“You must be Vanessa.”
She drew herself up. “And you are?”
“The reason Ryan believed this plan could work.”
Silence followed.
I climbed one more inch, just enough to see the reflection of his face in the chrome trim.
Silver hair.
Sharp jaw.
Gold-rimmed glasses.
Leonard Price.
My family’s chief financial officer.
The man who had managed the Mercer Foundation’s investments since my father’s death.
The man who had walked me down the aisle because I had no living parents.
The man who had kissed my forehead and promised Ryan was worthy of me.
My fingers almost slipped from the ladder.
Leonard looked at the black phone.
“What exactly did she activate?”
Ryan handed it to him.
Leonard read the screen without changing expression.
“Dead-man protocol. Board notification. Asset freeze.”
Vanessa looked from one man to the other.
“You said the money would transfer.”
Leonard turned toward her slowly.
“The money was never transferring to you.”
Her face reddened. “Excuse me?”
Ryan stepped between them.
“Not now.”
Vanessa shoved his shoulder.
He barely moved.
“You promised me the house, the yacht, and half the foundation shares.”
“And you believed him?” Leonard asked.
Vanessa stared at Ryan.
The ocean lifted me against the platform. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from gasping.
Ryan glanced toward the stern.
“Clara may still be alive.”
Leonard followed his gaze.
“She fell from the upper deck.”
“She activated the necklace underwater.”
“Then she anticipated the possibility.”
Vanessa wrapped her arms around herself.
“We need to find her.”
Leonard’s eyes narrowed.
“No. We need to determine where the signal went.”
He opened the metal case Ryan had brought from the cabin.
Inside were several devices arranged in black foam: a signal detector, two encrypted radios, and a small tablet.
This was not a crime conceived during an affair.
It was an operation.
Leonard powered on the detector.
A soft series of beeps began.
My necklace light flashed against the water.
The detector responded.
He walked toward the stern.
I lowered myself one rung.
Pain burned through my abdomen.
The baby shifted again.
Leonard stopped directly above me.
The detector beeped faster.
Ryan came closer.
“She’s under us.”
Vanessa took a step back.
“What do we do?”
Leonard looked over the edge.
I pressed myself against the white hull.
His shadow passed across the water.
“Clara,” he called.
Hearing my name in his voice almost broke me.
He sounded exactly as he had when I was seventeen and crying outside my father’s hospital room.
Calm.
Protective.
False.
“You must be terrified,” Leonard continued. “Let us bring you aboard.”
Ryan looked at him in disbelief.
Leonard covered the microphone on the detector and whispered, “She needs to answer so I can lock the transmission.”
I held my breath.
He called again.
“Your baby needs medical attention.”
That was the blade he chose.
Not my fear.
My child.
For one second, instinct urged me to climb up and demand help.
Then I remembered the way Ryan’s hands had felt against my back.
I remained silent.
The detector’s beeping slowed.
Leonard frowned.
“The signal is moving.”
I looked down.
The ocean current had caught the loose end of my cover-up, still snagged around a lower ladder rung. The fabric floated outward beneath the surface, pulling the necklace’s signal reflection away from my body.
Leonard followed the detector toward the starboard side.
I climbed onto the swim platform.
My knees struck the wet surface.
I nearly collapsed.
Ryan and Vanessa had gone with Leonard to the opposite rail.
The cabin door stood open behind me.
I crawled through it.
Inside, cold air-conditioning hit my wet skin.
I closed the door without latching it and pressed myself against the wall.
The lower salon was empty except for Leonard’s luggage and an open laptop on the table.
The screen displayed my foundation’s internal network.
A list of pending transactions filled the page.
Eight shell companies.
Three offshore trusts.
One transfer scheduled for the exact hour of my supposed death.
I moved closer.
A file name appeared in the corner.
PROJECT ORPHAN HEIR.
My stomach tightened.
The folder opened before I touched anything.
Someone was remotely controlling the laptop.
A photograph appeared on the screen.
It showed my mother standing beside Leonard twenty-five years earlier.
She was pregnant.
On the back of the scanned photograph, someone had written:
CLARA IS NOT MERCER’S BIOLOGICAL DAUGHTER.
Then a chat window opened.
A message appeared.
LEONARD: Confirm the subject is dead.
Another user began typing.
The reply came from an account labeled RYAN-M.
SUBJECT SURVIVED.
I looked toward the cabin door.
Ryan had not sent that message.
He was still outside.
Someone else was using his account from inside the yacht.
May you like
Behind me, a floorboard creaked.
📖 Discover who was controlling Ryan’s account from inside the yacht—and why the photograph of Clara’s pregnant mother could destroy her inheritance in CHAPTER 4. 👇
