Rose’s POV
The yacht rocked softly under my feet, its gentle sway mocking the storm raging inside me. My stomach twisted and turned, but it wasn’t the sea making me sick. It wasn’t even the exhaustion weighing down my bones. No, it was pure, burning rage.
They had dragged me up from the dark, suffocating prison below deck just moments ago. My wrists stung, rubbed raw by the rough ropes that had bound me for hours—maybe days, I couldn’t tell anymore. My lips were dry and cracked, splitting painfully every time I tried to lick them. I could still taste the faint salt of my own sweat, mixed with the bitter tang of dehydration. But none of that mattered. Not the pain, not the thirst, not the bruises blooming across my skin. All I could feel was the fury pumping through my veins, hot and unst
