Chapter 41
Sophie
Imust have passed out, because the next time I opened my eyes, I was handcuffed in what looked like an office.
“Welcome aboard the Kraken,” Jacqueline said, sitting on a sofa with her legs crossed and sipping on champagne while a handgun sat on her lap.
My eyebrows shot to my hairline. “Not a very inspired name for a boat.”
I glanced at the luxury surrounding me from all sides and the view stretching out the windows.
It looked like we were on the upper level of what seemed to be a very large yacht.
The furniture in this room was all white leather and bamboo boards, the circular glass windows giving views of the sea that stretched for miles.
In the far corner of the room sat a fully stocked bar that seated six on marble stools.
“This will be your last voyage, so enjoy it, Sophie.”
“What?”
“I fucking hate repeating myself,” she said, taking a sip of her champagne. “You’re going to die, so enjoy these moments. I can’t be any clearer than that.”
I wanted to fight her, to run and escape, but what could I really do? Jump overboard and start swimming? No, I’d stay put. Dina had seen what happened and Kian’s men were right behind us, so I was sure my rescue was imminent.
Yes, it was sort of lame to sit here and wait around, but I knew my strengths. Physical combat was certainly not one of them.
“What is your problem, Jacqueline?” I rasped, my mouth dry. The woman hadn’t even offered me a glass of water while she sipped from her fancy flute. “You wanted me gone, so I left. And now you follow me here.”
Her eyes narrowed as she asked, “Where is Jonathan?”
I stared at her blankly, expecting her to cackle, but instead was met with a serious expression.
“He’s dead,” I gritted. “You had him killed.”
She picked up the handgun and pulled the trigger without batting a lash.
I didn’t even have time to open my mouth to protest before the shot rang out—an ugly, wheezing scream through the air.
The bullet missed me by inches, and then the world behind me erupted as glass shattered and sprayed the room.
“Let’s try this again,” she said slowly. “Where is Jonathan?”
This woman was officially the most loony and fucked-up psycho I’d ever encountered.
My ears rang with adrenaline while my heart thundered against my ribs, threatening to crack them.
“He’s dead,” I said slowly, watching her warily. “You identified his body. Don’t you remember?”
She let out a hard laugh, her eyes glinting like ice. “We both know that wasn’t his body.”
“Wh-what?” I shook my head, the scene of that rainy night playing in my mind like a bad movie. “No, that can’t be. I heard the shot. Saw his dead eyes. He’s… dead. You killed him.”
Another shot rang, this time shattering a chandelier above us. Glass rained down and I took a quick step backward before it cut into me.
I was just about to bolt when more bullets suddenly exploded, splintering wood and more glass.
“Oh, shit.”
I wasn’t sure whether I said the words or Jacqueline. I threw myself on the floor, and so did she. If I wasn’t so scared, I would have reveled in her panicked expression, but instead I focused on getting away from her.
I started crawling toward the broken window, wincing every so often as glass cut into my flesh. It was then that I spotted hulking figures in black, swarming the yacht and carrying pistols. I blinked several times as relief hit me.
Help was here.
“Sophie!”
A familiar voice I couldn’t place echoed through the air. I tried to push off the floor, but immediately another round of bullets rang through the air. A bullet whizzed by me and lodged in the floor. I yelped and tried to shield myself with my arms.
“Sophie, where are you?” I lifted my head, recognizing the voice.
“Here,” I screamed as I scooted forward, trying to put as much distance between Jacqueline and me. “Kian!”
I wasn’t sure whether it was mere seconds or minutes later, but a body draped over my back, protecting me. The familiar scent cocooned all around me and I sagged with relief.
“I got you,” he murmured against my hair. “You’re safe.”
“Thank you for coming for me.” I tried to turn, but he cupped my head.
“Be still. It’s almost over, my love.” He produced a small key and freed me from the handcuffs, then rubbed my wrists gently. “I’ll never let anyone touch you again.”
I didn’t have time to digest that statement because he was up on his elbow, firing again. I held my breath and covered my ears.
When he lowered back on top of me, I said, “What’s happening?”
Kian’s muscles tightened, his big body still pinning me down. He shifted, and I leaned up to see him fire at a man near the entrance to the office.
Another bullet whizzed by me and I yelped, trying to burrow under his body. Kian fired rapidly, eliminating men with military efficiency. But then the gun clicked, indicating the chamber was empty.
“We have to move from here,” he growled. “We’ll be sitting ducks.”
“What about her?” I tilted my head at Jacqueline, who suddenly appeared old and frail, her eyes darting left and right in fear.
A dark expression passed Kian’s features. “She’ll get what she deserves.”
We started moving, but just as we reached the corridor, Amir appeared. “This is not the time to play hide-and-seek, you two lovebirds."
“Shut up, Amir,” Kian grumbled as he took his extended hand, then helped me to my feet. Amir tossed him a magazine with bullets, and as Kian loaded his gun, he said to Amir, “Get that psycho over there and restrain her.”
It took no time for Amir to get to Jacqueline, wrestle a gun from her white-knuckled fingers, and get her onto her feet. He held her roughly and practically dragged her over to us.
“Your threats to Sophie end today, Miss Caldwell,” Kian said flatly, his voice like a whip.
“She knows where he is,” she screamed. “I’m going to find out. He’ll come for me.” She chanted those words over and over again.
“What is she rambling about?” Amir asked.
I shrugged. “I think she’s lost her marbles.”
There was no other explanation.
“Did we figure out who the other team was?” Kian asked Amir.
Before he could answer, a familiar voice said, “Her fiancé.”
I spun and my lips parted on a swift breath. Jonathan stood there. Jonathan! The man who died in front of me was here, in Albania. My eyes had to be deceiving me.
“I knew he would come,” Jacqueline screeched, fighting against Amir’s grip and desperate to get to Jonathan. “Didn’t I tell you he was alive?” she shouted, glaring at me while her hair swung left and right.
Confusion swirled in my brain.
“Mr. Caldwell,” Kian said casually, his fingers tightening around my hand he still held. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
He didn’t seem shocked to see my dead boyfriend while I reeled from it, staring wide-eyed at Jonathan’s face and doubting my sight. How was this possible? I saw him shot dead, blood pooling around him. Yet, here he was, alive and well.
“Saving Sophie, of course,” Jonathan snarled, muscles tight like he was going to pounce at any moment.
What was happening? My mind struggled to make sense of the man—so familiar, yet a total stranger—who stood in front of me.
He still looked like himself, same blond hair and blue eyes.
Yet, he was somehow different. He sported a scruffy beard now, and there were lines on his face that I’d not noticed before.
“I’m quite capable of keeping her safe,” Kian gritted, every word forged with steel.
Jonathan’s mouth curved into a slow, unimpressed smile. “You could have fooled me.”
He moved toward me, unhurried, as if Kian weren’t standing there armed and poised to strike. The harsh lines of Jonathan’s face softened as he closed the distance, his gaze fixed on mine—searching, familiar, devastatingly intimate.
He leaned down while I stood frozen. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. My body locked in place as his mouth drew closer and closer, my mind screaming while my limbs refused to listen.
Jonathan never reached me.
The sharp clack of metal against bone echoed through the room as Kian slammed the butt of his gun into Jonathan’s temple. Jonathan crumpled instantly, hitting the floor with a dull thud.
“Don’t you dare touch her,” Kian snarled.
The air shifted.
Kian’s men flooded the doorway as if summoned by the violence, their weapons raised and eyes hard. Amir straightened at my side, his hand already on his pistol, waiting for the slightest excuse.
Jonathan groaned, then pushed himself up onto one elbow and then up to standing. Instead of fear, a reckless defiance burned in his eyes as he lifted his chin to Kian.
“Why don’t we let her choose?” he said. His gaze slid back to me. “Or are you scared she’ll choose me?”
My pulse roared in my ears. Pain twisted through my stomach, sharp and debilitating.
“I saw you die,” I whispered, the words tearing out of me as I stared at him. At the man who had been my first crush. My first love. “I watched them lower you into the ground. How are you here?” I turned to Kian, my chest tight. “Did you know?”
Kian’s jaw clenched, his mouth flattening into a hard line. “I suspected,” he admitted. “But it seemed too incredible to be true.”
I swallowed thickly as memories crashed over me—everything since that rainy October night last year. The funeral. The sleepless nights. The fear. The grief that had hollowed me out piece by piece.
It really was unbelievable that the man I loved—the man I mourned—had let me endure all of it alone.
“And yet,” Jonathan said, glaring at Kian, “you had no problem taking advantage of Sophie when she was at her most vulnerable.” His eyes were locked on Kian, sharp with accusation. “Taking her for yourself.”
Jonathan reached for me, but I didn’t take his hand.
“I suggest you watch yourself,” Kian said quietly. The menace in his voice was calm, absolute. “Attempt to touch her again,” Kian continued, lifting the gun just enough to make the promise unmistakable, “and you die.”