All Chapters of They Wanted a Confession. I Seized Their Ship: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

As the speedboat passed the breakwater, the old harbor’s flames still glimmered across the sea.Wrapped in the blanket, I held the pen with a hand that shook so badly I could barely write my name. Rosa didn’t hurry me. She only moved the detention paperwork closer and steadied the trembling page.The moment I finished the final stroke, she handed it to the person beside her.“Notify the port services company. Suspend berth services for that vessel. Cite accounting irregularities and request a joint review.”She turned back and cut open my scorched sleeve. Only when the medicated cotton touched my skin did I realize a patch of blisters covered my arm.“Why not stop the boat outright?” I asked.“Your father has men aboard, along with armed guards protecting his cargo. We need to get you somewhere safe first.”My phone lit up again.Livia had posted a photograph in the family group chat. She sat in a leather chair in the cabin, my coat around her shoulders, a glass of champagne raised in

Viola was selecting place cards for the gala when she handed me the job of organizing the videos.“Livia knows how to film things, not how to organize them.” She pushed a hard drive toward me. “Sort these out for her. Don’t bring anything inappropriate to the venue.”I glanced at the drive.“What counts as inappropriate?”“Business matters. And all that crying of yours. Leave a little in, but too much is unattractive.”Then she lowered her head to check the guest list again.The charity foundation’s name was printed across the top. That evening, my father would announce a donation to build a boarding school for children who had lost both parents.Livia would speak as a representative of adopted children.And I was responsible for choosing background music for their display of respectability.Back in my room, I locked the door and connected the drive to my computer.The first folder was called “Family Memories.”The earliest video had been recorded six years earlier.In it, I stood in t

When Dario came to see me that night, he carried a new jewelry box.Inside was a diamond necklace.“You’re always so attached to old things,” he said. “Wear this tomorrow. It goes better with the dress.”I didn’t touch it.He placed the box on my desk. Seeing the pocket watch beside it, he frowned slightly.“Livia gave it back. Let it go.”“How much did you know beforehand about the docks?” I asked.“Didn’t we agree not to bring that up again?”“Did you know they were going to set the fire?”He fell silent.Looking at his face, I finally had my answer.“I thought they only meant to frighten you,” he said. “I kept telling the captain to turn back.”“When?”His mouth opened, but he couldn’t give me a time.The phone on the desk rang. Enzo. Dario saw the name and immediately declined the call.“Elia, you can’t force everyone to choose sides every time something goes wrong. I have my own difficulties.”Suddenly, I remembered his first visit to the estate years earlier, how carefully he had

My father’s shout came through the computer, the ballroom speakers trembling faintly with the force of it.“Turn it off! Who told you to play this?”The livestream camera jerked as it followed him.A technician bent over the equipment. Onstage, Livia frantically pressed the buttons on her remote.But the more desperate she became, the clearer the images seemed.I was trapped at the end of the pier. Smoke poured from beneath the warehouse door. First I pushed at the iron gate. When it wouldn’t open, I grabbed the railing and waved toward the distant boat.The person filming zoomed in.Not to see whether I was hurt.To capture exactly how frightened I was.Enzo’s voice sounded again.“Keep filming her. When she picks up the pen, get a close-up.”Someone asked quietly, “Are we really handing that paper over?”“Once she signs it, it’s her problem.”A low murmur spread through the ballroom.Dario stood abruptly, knocking over a wineglass.I recognized his expression.Whenever I mentioned so

I looked at her.“I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”She ended the call and turned to me.“Elia, your mother gave me your number so you could ask for help. Not so you’d have to apologize first.”I lowered my head.The lawyer didn’t let us leave immediately.He arranged for someone to verify the situation at the hotel, then helped me review several documents that had already been prepared.Nearly an hour later, my father called.I was going to decline, but the lawyer reminded me that I could choose not to answer—or choose to preserve the conversation with full awareness of what I was doing.I answered.“Where are you?”Still an order.I looked at the closed door at the end of the conference room.“If you have something to discuss, speak to my lawyer.”My father acted as though he hadn’t heard.“I asked where you are.”“Somewhere safe.”He paused, then gave a cold laugh.“Did Rosa tell you that a few pieces of paper your mother left behind would be enough to stand against me?”I said no