Chapter 4: The Tides of Escape

I lay motionless in the dark, staring at the high ceiling as my breathing slowly evened out. My skin felt icy, my lips burned from his touch, and a deep, agonizing shame pressed against my chest. I hated Roman Sterling. I hated his power, his ruthless leverage, and the suffocating walls of his island estate.

I turned onto my side, burying my face into the pillow, and let the quiet, bitter tears fall until exhaustion finally pulled me under.

For three full days, I became a ghost.

I consumed every meal Mrs. Gable delivered without protest. I swallowed the daily vitamins Doctor Garrick handed me. I stopped screaming at the guards, and I never uttered Aiden's name within Roman's earshot.

I allowed everyone on St. Jude's Island to believe I had yielded.

Behind my calm exterior, however, my mind calculated every detail. During my permitted walks in the walled courtyard, I mapped the grounds. I memorized the guard rotations—six o'clock sharp, morning and evening. I marked a blind spot along the northern surrounding where heavy ivy cascaded over the stone wall, obscuring the security cameras.

Most importantly, I tracked the supply run.

I learned that every thursday at dawn, a weathered blue fishing vessel docked at the rocky cove on the island's southern cliff to unload fresh seafood for the estate. It remained moored for fifteen minutes before heading back to the mainland.

And today was Thursday.

A violent storm battered the coast, providing ideal cover. Torrents of rain sheets crashed against the estate, black storm clouds swallowing the morning sun, and howling winds rattling the reinforced glass windows.

At 5:45 am, fifteen minutes prior to the guard shift change, I made my move.

I pulled on heavy shoes, bound my hair securely, and wrapped a dark woolen shawl around my frame. Approaching the suite's heavy double doors, I produced a slender brass hairpin I had concealed beneath my mattress two nights prior.

With practiced care, I manipulated the lock cylinder.

Click.

The mechanism released.

My heart hammered against my ribs. I opened the door a few inch. The long corridor lay dark and deserted—the night guards had already vacated their posts early to shelter from the downpour.

I slipped out like a shadow.

Bypassing the main staircase, I descended through a narrow service stairwell. Pushing open the heavy rear exit near the laundry facilities, I stepped directly into the storm.

Freezing rain soaked my clothing in seconds, plastering the wet fabric to my skin, but adrenaline surged through my veins.

Aiden, I thought, pressing forward through the muddy tree line surrounding the estate. Hold on. I’m coming back to you.

Rough branches scraped my arms and face. My footwear sank into deep mud with every step, but I refused to slow down. I bolted toward the thunderous roar of waves crashing against the jagged rocks below.

Through the dense sea fog, I spotted it.

The small blue fishing boat was tethered to a wooden piling at the pier. A lone deckhand in a yellow slicker carried wooden crates toward the estate elevator. No one was watching the deck.

Hope surged in my chest.

I scrambled down the slippery path, sliding over the mud and scraping my hands against sharp stone. Reaching the pier, I crouched low behind a stack of wooden crates.

The moment the deckhand turned his back, I lunged. I dropped onto the wet timber of the deck, crawling beneath a canvas tarp covering a storage hold filled with heavy nets and anchor lines.

I pulled the hatch cover tight, plunging myself into darkness.

Curled in the small space, shivering violently from the cold, I held my breath. Beneath me, the vessel’s diesel engine roared to life. The floorboards vibrated beneath my palms.

It’s moving, I thought, a tear of relief escaping my eyes. The engine started. I made it. I’m leaving—

The hatch was violently ripped open.

Blinding light and freezing rain flooded the compartment. Before I could scream, a heavy hand clamped around my arm, hauling me onto the open deck.

I hit the wet wood hard, coughing as spray stung my eyes.

Standing over me was not the fisherman. Roman towered above me in a heavy black overcoat, rain sweeping off his shoulders. His dark hair was soaked, plastered against his forehead, and his sharp face was set in a mask of pure rage. Behind him stood six armed security guards. The fisherman was already on his knees on the pier, pale and trembling between two guards.

"Did you truly believe you could escape me, Sunny?" Roman's voice roared over the storm.

"Let me go!" I screamed, fighting to push myself up, my gaze darting toward the open water. "Let me go! I would rather drown in this sea than stay in your cage!"

Roman stepped forward instantly. The heavy sole of his boot pinned my ankle to the deck, cutting off my movement. He bent down, his hand gripping my wet hair to tilt my face upward.

His ice-blue eyes burned with rage. The calm demeanor he maintained was gone.

"You thought you could play me?" he growled, his warm breath cutting through the freezing air. "You played the obedient pet just to crawl into the hold of a fishing boat?"

"I hate you!" I spat, tears mingling with the torrential rain running down my face. "I will never stop trying! I will run every single day until you kill me!"

Roman hauled me up by my arms in one swift motion, swinging my soaked, shivering frame over his shoulder. I hit my fists against his back with all my remaining strength, but he didn't budge.

He turned toward his head of security, his voice cutting through the thunder.

"Tighten the security in every inch of this island!" Roman commanded. "Burn this boat where it sits! Terminate every external service contract on this estate immediately! If any unauthorized vessel approaches this coast, sink it!"

"Right away, Master Roman!"

"And as for the guards assigned to her corridor," Roman added, his voice dropping to a lethal register, "remove them from the estate. If she takes one step past her doorway without my explicit authorization, everyone on duty answers for it."

He turned and marched up the muddy incline, carrying me back toward the dark silhouette of the villa. His arm locked around my waist like iron.

I looked back through the driving rain. On the rocks below, flames swallowed the small blue vessel, turning my final route to freedom into black smoke against the gray sky.

Roman did not release me until we reached the west wing suite.

He set me down firmly inside the threshold. My soaked clothes clung to me, shivering uncontrollably. Before I could step away, Roman gripped my wrists, trapping my hands against the closed door behind me.

"Look at me," he commanded, his low voice echoing in the quiet room. Water dripped from his dark hair onto my cheek. "Look at me, Sunny."

I glared at him, my chest heaving, defiance burning in my wet eyes. "Do whatever you want. Kill me. Lock me in a basement. It changes nothing. I will never give you my heart."

Roman stepped closer, his imposing frame blocking out the room. He reached up, his long fingers cupping my jaw in a firm hold. His ice-blue eyes searched my face, dark and possessive.

"I don't need your heart, Sunny," Roman whispered, his thumb pressing firmly against my chin. "I require your total submission. You tried to run today. You proved that comfort and freedom are privileges you aren't ready for."

"You're a monster," I choked out, fresh tears spilling over my lashes.

"I am the man who dictates your reality," Roman replied softly, his face inches from mine. "From this second onward, your world shrinks to this room. No courtyard walks. No balcony access. You will see no one except Mrs. Gable and me."

He leaned in, his lips brushing my ear, his voice dropping to a chilling murmur.

"If you attempt to run again, I won't just burn a boat," Roman promised, his grip on my jaw tightening slightly. "I will put Aiden in a cell so deep he will forget what sunlight looks like. Do you understand me?"

I closed my eyes, a heavy sob tearing from my throat. My body trembled against the door, every shred of my physical strength utterly spent.

"Do you understand me, Sunny?" Roman repeated, his tone leaving no room for defiance.

"Yes..." I whispered, my voice shattering in the quiet room. "I understand."

Roman stared at me for a long moment, marking my tear-stained face and broken posture. Slowly, he released my wrists and stepped back.

"Change out of those wet clothes," he commanded coldly, turning toward the double doors. "I dont want you falling sick . It's time you started acting the part where I own you."

He stepped into the corridor, and the doors locked behind him with a , final click.

I sank onto the floor, pulling my knees to my chest, listening to the rain beat relentlessly against the unbreakable glass.