Chapter 5 - THE SINKING OF THE AURELIA
Far offshore, thunder rolled.
Gideon looked toward the captain.
“Evacuate the yacht.”
Graham’s eyes widened.
“What?”
“All passengers go aboard the tenders.”
“No.”
Gideon ignored him.
“Crew as well.”
“What are you doing?”
I looked at Gideon.
He had promised nobody would die.
He had not promised the Aurelia would survive.
“Gideon.”
His eyes returned to mine.
I glanced around at the polished teak, the champagne, the gold fixtures, the expensive furniture Graham had bought with borrowed money and stolen signatures.
“This boat was purchased with money from my father’s estate.”
“Partially,” Gideon said.
Graham pulled against the men holding him.
“You touch this yacht and I’ll bury you in court!”
Gideon tilted his head.
“You just tried to murder the registered owner of a substantial portion of its financing.”
“I own it!”
Maren from nine years ago would have argued.
Maren from yesterday would have produced documents.
Maren from an hour ago might have screamed.
I simply looked at him.
“No,” I said.
“You never owned anything.”
He laughed wildly.
“Are you insane?”
“You borrowed people.”
His face changed.
“You borrowed my money. My father’s reputation. Celeste’s loyalty. Your investors’ confidence. And you mistook having temporary use of those things for owning them.”
I looked around the yacht.
“Same mistake here.”
Gideon waited.
He was giving me the choice.
That surprised me most.
If I told him no, the yacht would remain afloat.
I knew it.
Part of me wanted to save it.
Not for Graham.
For evidence.
For legality.
For the version of myself that still believed every wrong decision could be corrected by filling out the correct paperwork.
Then I noticed something painted near the stern.
The name.
Aurelia.
My mother’s middle name.
Graham had named the yacht after her.
He had used my inheritance to buy it.
Then used my dead mother’s name to make the theft sound romantic.
“Everyone off,” I said.
Graham screamed.
People were transferred safely to the tenders.
Celeste sat wrapped in a blanket, staring at nothing.
Graham had to be restrained.
I boarded Gideon’s vessel last.
We moved several hundred yards away.
The Aurelia remained alone beneath the storm.
Beautiful.
Bright.
Empty.
Gideon stood beside me at the rail.
“You’re sure?”
“No.”
He looked at me.
I laughed quietly.
“You thought I was going to say yes?”
“Most people prefer certainty before destroying something worth several million dollars.”
“Most people are liars.”
A corner of his mouth lifted.
I looked at the yacht.
“I’m sure nobody is aboard.”
“They’re not.”
“I’m sure I don’t want it.”
“Good enough.”
Gideon raised two fingers.
A signal passed.
I never asked exactly what his people had done.
I did not want to know.
The Aurelia simply began sitting lower.
Slowly at first.
Almost gracefully.
The stern dipped.
Water climbed over the swim platform where I had nearly died.
The deck lights reflected across the black surface.
Then one by one, they vanished.
Graham screamed from the tender.
Not my name.
Not Celeste’s.
Not for help.
“My boat!”
That told me everything I would ever need to know about him.
The bow remained above water for another minute.
Aurelia was still visible in gold lettering.
My mother’s name.
Then the ocean swallowed it.
I cried.
Gideon said nothing.
He did not touch me.
May you like
That was another reason I trusted him.
He understood some grief should not be interrupted merely because someone has arms strong enough to hold you.
