Chapter 133

**Hadassah POV**

From the bed, the night view of the ocean stretches out like an endless, obsidian canvas. The soft whisper of waves gently collides against the ship’s hull, their rhythmic ebb and flow a calming presence in the stillness. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the moon hangs high and luminous, casting a silvery trail across the inky water, its reflection shimmering like liquid mercury.
Enrobed by the Turkish sheets, lying comfortably on the pillow, slightly curled over as I stare out into the distance. The vastness of the sea feels infinite, a dark abyss stretching beyond the horizon, the occasional flicker of distant stars mirrored in its surface. The sky above is a deep, velvety black, punctuated by a scattering of stars that seem brighter here, away from the lights of civilization. The gentle sway of the ship lulls the room into a soothing motion, the perfect counterbalance to the quiet power of the ocean beyond.
“You look so peaceful.”
With my head still on the pillow, my face shifts so I can look up. Dread seizes a breath as a formidable silhouette bleeds out from the shadows. Orian strolls out with his hands deep in his pockets.
“*My Sakura*.”
My eyes snap open and I flip upright so fast I nearly give myself whiplash. My body agleam from the sheen of sweat coating my skin as I ease my uneasy breaths, trying to console myself that it was just a dream—a very lucid, lifelike dream. But a dream nonetheless. And yet that truth is eclipsed by another that Orian is always a step behind me and one wrong move. One mistake. One falter and he will catch me. So I can’t afford a single slip up.
From the comfort of the plush bed, the world outside feels vast and untouchable, yet intimately close—just a pane of glass separating you from the tranquil majesty of the night sea. The cool breeze slips through a slightly ajar door to the balcony, carrying the scent of salt and the false promise of peace, wrapping around the room like a soft blanket. The ocean’s endless whispers and the moon’s soft glow cradles the night, creating a serene, almost dreamlike itself as it all just begs for me to lay back down. But I can’t.
I scurry out of the bed, escaping its silky touch as I go for the closed double doors. I exit the master bedroom that occupies the entire top floor. I descend the swirling staircase as I make my way to the ground floor. When I’m close to the end, I hop off the last step as I meander down the west corridor with a mind plagued by dread encroaching the edge of my feeble sanity. When I reach the room Calum chose, I don’t even bother knocking. I open only to find the exquisite bed, unmade, visibly disturbed, a sign that someone was in it. But he’s not in the room or en suite.
And if he went off to explore the ship. Good for him. I return to the staircase, trying to make peace that I’m able to fight off the night terrors of others, but not my own. My hand clutches the bulge of the railing and before I can pull myself up—a sound clamps down my body and I freeze.
I reverse and I follow the distant and disconcerting echo toward the east wing. Deeper into the corridor, I can hear Emilia’s agonized screams. Panic bursts in my chest and I sprint forward and when I’m close—my instincts yanks me back. Thoughts warn me to be ready and I scan around quickly for something to use as a weapon since we were unable to smuggle any aboard.
I spot an odd-looking, ornamental lamp. I grab it and I unplug its head to deposit it on the table’s surface. So all I’m holding is the shaft like it's a wooden stake that I’m prepared to bludgeon someone with. At this point it could be anyone—men belonging to Tomossa, Armend, Torin and God forbid.* Orian. *I approach the door with my heart thumping before I just gor for it. I push and explode inside to see two naked bodies.
Calum shoves Emilia’s face into the pillow—bent over with her ass in the air and Calum riding her hard from behind, grabbing her hips as if to hold on. The shaft falls from my hand and a traumatized scream escapes me as Calum jolts and gawks back at me with his whole dick in her ass. I scream again and I hurl myself outside the room before I bang the door close. And I run away blindly until I decide on just leaving the entire suite altogether. I gush out of the double doors into the carpeted hallway and a staff member pushing a white-clothed cart. He stops to glance behind him and I just start walking towards him in my matching satin pajamas.
“Is everything alright, ma’am?”
I let out a loud and scathing laugh. “Everything but,” I answer vaguely. “Where is your closest supply of alcohol, bar, club—I don’t care. I need something strong enough to erase the last few moments of my life and burn them from my memories.”
***
He nudges me again and I stir awake hostilely.
“My shift starts in like ten minutes.”
I’m laying in his single bed, beside the wall that’s part of a double bunk. And there’s two of them in the narrow cabin. I lift myself so I’m in a sphinx position, turning my head to look at his bare back with him sitting on the edge of the bed in his boxers. Nothing happened. Just a sleepover with a complete stranger and three other of his roommates within one of the crew cabins. Last night, Harry or Henry or whatever his name is took me to the kitchens and not only served me an assortment of shots but also a midnight array of light meals. So it explains why I’m not severely hung over right now, but I’m still starving.
Honestly, from what I remember he was more of a friend than the one I have.
One of his colleagues pops back into their room. “Henry, let’s go.”
*I knew it was one of the two.*
Henry stands and gestures back to me discreetly and he lowers himself to catch a glimpse of me. And I wave back at him with a flirtatious flutter of my fingers. He lights up a quick smile and nods back.
“Good to see you safe and sober.”
I crawl out of the bed. “Since I know you’re not going to make me breakfast in bed—”
He cuts me off with a cheeky laugh. “You think this is Titanic or something? I’m not about to fall for the mysterious rich girl.”
I stand up and I nearly stumble from the weight of my head. *Perhaps I spoke too soon.*
“Who said anything about love? I asked for breakfast.”
“Well that’s how it begins, innit?”