Sandra endured a night tormented by haunting dreams.
She found herself flailing in the depths of the ocean, the choking tightness so vivid she could almost swear she was submerged once more.
Through her haze, she glimpsed Elijah on the distant shore, his gaze icy as he watched her struggle. Beside him stood Sandra, her grin wide and triumphant.
“Knock, knock, knock.” The sharp rapping at the door snapped her from her nightmare. “Sandra, are you awake?” Daxton’s voice called out, filled with concern.
Startled, Sandra’s eyes flew open.
She massaged her forehead and propped herself up, her gaze drifting towards the window. The storm had relented, and now the setting sun draped the sea in a blanket of golden hues.
For a fleeting second, the boundary between reality and her dream blurred.
“I’m awake,” she called back, her voice steadier than she felt.
Daxton’s voice took on a gentle edge as he spoke. “We’ve arrived at the dock. Feel free to freshen up whenever you’re ready.”
“Okay,” Sandra responded, her movements brisk as she tossed aside the covers and swung her legs out of bed.
The tempest from the previous evening had disabled the yacht’s communications. She had been cut off, unable to reach out.
She knew Edith and Wren were probably worried sick.
Sandra emerged from the room, stepping onto the yacht’s deck, which now seemed hauntingly deserted. Except for Daxton and a handful of attendants, the vessel was empty, as everyone else had disembarked.
She leaned against the railing, her eyes scanning the dock where a crowd had assembled. There, a distinct figure dressed in black sharply contrasted with the others.
It was Elijah, unmistakable at the center, encircled by police officers. Despite the situation, his aura of authority was as potent as ever.
He was there for her—whether out of obligation or summoned by the authorities, she wasn’t sure.
And honestly, it mattered little to her.
Had Daxton not crossed her path just in time, she would have met a grim fate, swallowed by the vast sea.
And where had Elijah been when she was battling for survival?
Sandra’s gaze shifted away from him, sweeping across the crowd.
There, somewhat removed from the center, stood Edith and Wren, with Albin unexpectedly beside them, not with Elijah.
Sandra pondered this briefly but chose not to linger on the thought. She followed Daxton off the yacht.
“The air’s chilly today,” Daxton noted softly, placing his coat over her shoulders with a protective gesture. “I activated the yacht’s emergency signal the moment I realized what had happened. I can’t be certain, but falling overboard wasn’t by chance. Since everyone else had already left the boat, the gathering down there must certainly be for you.”
Sandra offered him a look brimming with gratitude.
Daxton’s careful attention had safeguarded her in every aspect.
At that moment, Wren caught sight of her amidst the crowd. “Sandra!” she called out, her voice slicing through the noise as she darted over and clutched Sandra’s arm.
Wren scrutinized her carefully, searching for any signs of harm. Although the bruises from the ropes were concealed under her clothing, and the scratch on the corner of her mouth was healing nicely thanks to Daxton’s care from the previous night, her concern was palpable.
Tears cascaded down Wren’s cheeks as she embraced Sandra tightly. “I was terrified! I feared those obsessive fans might have kidnapped you, or something even worse!” she exclaimed, her voice choked with emotion.
Sandra allowed Wren’s embrace, soaking in the comfort, before her eyes sought Edith. “Edith, I’m sorry for causing you worry. There was no signal out on the boat…”
“As long as you’re safe, that’s what matters,” Edith replied with a gentle smile, her demeanor composed and reassuring. She retrieved her phone from her purse, saying, “I’ll call Daisy to let her know you’re okay. She’s been up all night, worried sick.”
With a nod, Edith moved away to make the call.
Meanwhile, Elijah observed the scene silently, his piercing gaze never leaving Sandra.
Even though she had stepped off the boat, her gaze never once met his, treating him as though he were completely invisible.
It stung, especially since he was the one she was expected to notice first upon stepping off the boat.
Even the seasoned police officers present could sense the palpable tension and silence enveloping them.
Elijah took in her appearance: her attire was immaculate, and her stance poised. Even the slight fatigue marking her features suggested she had recently woken from a deep sleep.
She appeared far from the fragile, vulnerable person he had envisioned she would be in such a crisis.
After the harrowing events involving a fire and violent assailants, Elijah had made a solemn vow never to let her confront danger alone. At the slightest hint of trouble, he had promised himself to be there for her.
He had spent the night tirelessly coordinating with every contact and police unit available, desperate to locate her. To the outside observer, it might have seemed like a major criminal investigation was underway.
When a call about a potential homicide had come through at dawn, he had raced to the scene, standing by the shore for what felt like an eternity.
Yet, when he finally did find her, there she was, unharmed and alongside another man.
