Two Cowards In a Boat
ARIANA’S POV
A sharp pain exploded in my gut.
I gasped, curling forward, the ropes biting into my skin as my body folded around the impact. A foot. A goddamn kick. My vision blurred, white-hot dots dancing in the darkness before a sudden, blinding bolt of yellow light flicked on overhead.
A bulb.
They’d had a bulb the whole time. Electricity. Light.
And yet they left me in pitch-black like some discarded animal in a cage.
I blinked against the harsh glare, the light piercing straight into my skull like needles. My head pounded harder. My hands were numb. My cheek still stung from Garry’s last hit. But I forced myself to sit up, back straight, chin lifted.
Because I wouldn’t cower.
Not even when I saw the figure standing just beyond the beam of light, his outline slowly sharpening like a ghost crawling out of hell.
The face that came into focus shouldn’t have surprised me.
But it did.
William.
“Wow,” I rasped, my voice hoarse but laced with venom. “You finally crawled out of whatever sewer you’ve been hiding in.”
He stepped forward, smug, clean-cut in a charcoal suit like he belonged in a boardroom instead of a kidnapping scene. His hair was slicked back. His smile was snake-oil smooth. And his eyes—those icy, pale Miller eyes—looked like someone had carved all the warmth out of them.
“You’re surprised,” he said. “Don’t be.”
I gave a slow, tired smirk. “Two cowards in the same boat? Please. If anything, I expected this sooner.”
He chuckled. A low, gravelly sound that scraped against my nerves.
“I always wondered if you were as mouthy in person as you were in the press,” he said, circling me like a predator savoring its prey. “Turns out, the tabloids were right.”
“I’m mouthy,” I agreed, “but I don’t hide behind old men and creepy basements.”
His jaw twitched.
But before he could respond, the door creaked open again.
I didn’t have to look to know who it was.
The cologne hit first—cheap, overpowering, a desperate mask for rot underneath.
“Ah,” Garry said, stepping into the room like he owned it. “I see you’ve met my associate.”
William glanced back at him. “We were just getting acquainted. She’s got quite the mouth on her.”
“I told you,” Garry muttered with a short, bitter laugh. “The girl doesn’t shut up.”
I leaned my head back against the wall, eyes half-lidded.
“You know,” I said, slowly, “for two grown men, you spend a lot of time talking about my mouth. You might want to unpack that.”
William’s jaw clenched again. Garry smirked.
But I saw the shift.
The tension.
Like two wolves forced to share the same kill, both thinking they deserved the bigger bite.
“You should really let me go,” I said, voice softer now. “Because whatever you two think you’re planning—it won’t work. The company will never belong to either of you.”
William crouched in front of me. “Oh, but it will. See, once you’re dead—and I present myself as the only legitimate Miller heir—the board will have no choice. They’ll name me CEO.”
I barked out a laugh.
God, it felt good to laugh.
Even tied up. Even bruised and bleeding.
Because this man—this delusional little pawn—had just laid all his cards on the table.
And I wasn’t done playing yet.
But the best part?
Garry’s face.
He turned slowly toward William, confusion etched across every wrinkle.
“Wait,” he said, voice sharp. “What the hell are you talking about?”
William straightened, blinking. “What?”
“You said you’d take over?” Garry’s voice rose. “That’s not what we discussed.”
“Well, of course it is,” William said, tilting his head. “You’re wanted by the police, remember? There’s a warrant with your name on it. You can’t exactly run a company from prison.”
The air snapped like a whip.
Garry stepped forward, his coat swinging, mouth twitching at the edges. “You slimy little bastard. You think I brought you in just to hand over my legacy?”
William scoffed. “Your legacy? Please. You were never anything to my father. Hell, you were barely his shadow.”
“Watch your mouth,” Garry growled, stepping into his face. “I ran this family’s empire from the inside out—while your mother spread her legs for a married man in secret.”
William lunged.
I flinched, expecting fists.
But no—Garry pushed him back, hands raised, and William stared at him with fire in his eyes.
Oh, this was better than TV.
I smiled, savoring the scene.
“Please,” I said sweetly. “Don’t stop on my account. This is the best show I’ve seen all week.”
They both turned to glare at me.
But the cracks were already showing.
The alliance had been thin to begin with. And now it was disintegrating before my eyes.
“Get out,” Garry snapped at William. “We need to talk. Privately.”
William sneered. “We’ll see who the board sides with. Enjoy your temper tantrum.”
He stalked out, slamming the door behind him.
Garry turned back to me, furious.
“Don’t even think about it,” he snarled. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“Right,” I said with a smirk. “Because this is such a lovely spa retreat.”
He stormed out, muttering to himself, slamming the lock behind him again.
And then it was just me.
And the silence.
But this time… I wasn’t just shaking with rage.
I was smiling.
Because they were unraveling.
Turning on each other.
And that gave me time.
It gave me hope.
I looked down at the ropes.
My skin was raw, blood smeared over the fibers. My wrists were burning, but the pipe I’d been working against had already started to cut into the knot.
I just needed a little longer.
A little more time.
Because if there was one thing I’d learned growing up around powerful men—it’s that ego was the biggest weapon in the room.
And those two?
They were already at war.
I closed my eyes, forcing slow breaths through the pain.
I would get out.
I would take back my company.
And I would make them pay.
Every. Last. One of them.
I didn’t care if it meant crawling through the flames to do it.
They’d made one mistake—one fatal, arrogant mistake.
They underestimated me.
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