Stories of Tie Up Games

Back aboard, time blurs in a whirl of relaxation and routine.
Erica steps into the expansive bathroom of her suite, letting the rainfall shower work its magic, the warm water cascading over her skin like a blanket of tranquility. She stands there for a long moment, gazing out through the glass window that frames the endless expanse of the sea. Her mind drifts to practical thoughts – how much would it cost to install a rainfall shower like this back home? She makes a mental note to ask her contractor when she returns to New York.

Suddenly, her thoughts shift to Spot and Tiger. Will her two kittens still remember her, or will Claire have claimed their affection by now? Erica smirks at the thought. Of course, they’d recognize her - their real mom.

Wrapped in her silk kimono, aviator sunglasses perched on her nose, Erica settles into the plush lounge chair on her private terrace. She has Jane Austen’s “Pride and Prejudice” in hand – a classic piece of literature she’s always meant to read but never found the time for. She flips it open, a slight smile tugging at her lips when she sees the sticker boasting 20 million copies sold. “For a book written in 1813, that’s pretty impressive.” she thinks.

To her surprise, the story draws her in quickly. Despite the centuries between them, Austen’s wit and the sharpness of the dialogue strike a chord. “Elizabeth Bennett would have made an excellent lawyer.” she muses, imagining what it would be like to spar with someone like Darcy in a courtroom.

Her Rolex catches her eye. Time to get ready for dinner. With a slight groan, she dog-ears the page, closes the book, and heads back inside.




Dinner at “The Voyage” is, as always, exquisite. This time, she’s sharing a table with two elderly couples, their familiarity with each other evident in the way they exchange jokes and laughter. They are quick to pull her into their conversation, and the evening feels unexpectedly light.

Erica opts for the chef’s selection - a delicate starter of seared scallops in a citrus glaze, followed by a tender lamb rack with rosemary potatoes and grilled asparagus. She finishes with a decadent chocolate lava cake that melts in her mouth, paired with a glass of velvety Cabernet Sauvignon. The espresso at “The Voyage”’s coffee bar is the perfect way to end the meal, its sharp bitterness grounding her after the indulgence.

She scans the room, half- expecting to see Evelyn and Nicholas. “They must have opted for something more private tonight.” she thinks. “Maybe Evelyn's suite again.”





The Rat Pack Show is a throwback to another era - one that Erica finds herself unexpectedly enjoying. The multi- talented cast performs with impeccable timing, blending comedy sketches with smooth renditions of classic Sinatra, Dean Martin, and Sammy Davis Jr. tunes. There’s a retro-cool vibe in the air, complete with black-and-white film clips projected between sets and choreographed dance numbers reminiscent of old-school Las Vegas shows.

Erica’s caught up in the nostalgia, her foot tapping to the rhythms. She can’t help but chuckle at the effortless charm the performers exude - there’s something captivating about that mid-century charisma. By the time the final curtain falls, she feels lighter, more relaxed. Maybe it’s the music, or maybe it’s just the escape of it all.

As the crowd begins to filter out, Erica hangs back, waiting for the bustle to die down. She takes a moment to savor the atmosphere when she hears a deep, familiar voice behind her.

"Freeze, stranger!"

Erica’s eyes are rolling under her aviators, but she plays along. Slowly, she raises her hands in mock surrender. "Please, Mr. Outlaw." she says, turning to face Steve McKinley, who is standing there with a crooked grin, tipping an imaginary cowboy hat.

"You played that well." he says, his grin widening. "Didn't expect you to drop your serious facade."

"I’m full of surprises." she replies, her tone teasing, but a smile curls on her lips. Steve has a way of coaxing a little more fun out of her than most people.

"Can I treat you to a glass of wine, Erica?" he drops the act, his voice friendly, but the offer sincere.

Erica pauses for a second. “He’s persistent.” she thinks, but she can’t deny that she enjoys his company - his charm is unpolished though genuine. She tilts her head slightly, smirking. "I'm buying tonight." she says firmly. "I hope you’re not the kind of man who can’t handle a woman paying for the tab."

Steve chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound. "I’ll allow it." he says, putting his hands up. "Just this once."

Erica nods toward the nearby lounge, where the dim lighting and cozy atmosphere seem the perfect backdrop for unwinding after the show. They make their way over, and soon, they’re seated at a small, candle-lit table. She orders a Nero d’Avola, and Steve opts for a whiskey neat.

As they clink glasses, Steve leans in slightly. "So, what’d you think of the show?"

"It was fun." Erica admits. "I didn’t think I’d enjoy it so much, but there’s something about that old-school charm that gets you."

"Yeah, those guys knew how to entertain. It’s not all just about the talent - it’s the confidence, the way they carried themselves." Steve takes a sip of his whiskey, his eyes thoughtful for a moment. "Kind of reminds me of my dad, actually."

"Is that right?"

"Yeah, he was a contractor, like me. Built a lot of things with his hands, but he had this old-fashioned charm about him. Could talk to anyone, make ‘em feel at ease."

Erica smiles at that, appreciating the glimpse into Steve’s personal life. "Must’ve been a good role model for you."

"Yeah, he was. Still is, actually." Steve looks at her, his gaze softening. "You remind me of someone who’s got that same kind of strength. Different world, but same spirit."

Erica feels her cheeks warm slightly at the compliment. She brushes it off with a laugh. "You’re quite the charmer yourself, Steve McKinley."


As the waiter refills their glasses, Steve takes a sip of his whiskey, his eyes thoughtful. The dim lighting of the lounge casts shadows across the contours of his face, and Erica finds herself wondering - what makes a guy like him, charming in his own rough-hewn way, struggle to find someone?

Without overthinking it, she asks, “Steve, can I ask you something?”

He sets his glass down, his brow quirking in curiosity. “Sure, shoot.”

She hesitates for a moment, then leans in slightly, lowering her voice. “Why do you think it’s so difficult for you to find a girlfriend? I mean…you’re a really nice guy. Honest, funny. It’s just…” She stops, realizing how forward she’s being, but it’s too late to pull back now. “It seems like it shouldn’t be so hard for you.”

Steve chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck, and lets out a slow breath. “I get that a lot, actually. But, uh, I guess dating’s different these days, you know? Everything’s moved online.” He shrugs, his eyes reflecting a mix of frustration and resignation. “I’ve tried the apps, swiped left, swiped right, gone on dates, but it’s all so...fake, you know? Everyone’s got a profile, but half the time it’s not who they really are. You show up expecting one thing and get something else.”

Erica nods, feeling the weight of what he’s saying. “I can imagine. It’s like everyone’s marketing themselves.”

“Exactly!” Steve says, his voice a little more animated. “And I’m not great at marketing. I’m not the guy who’s gonna sit there and make myself sound perfect. I’ve got rough edges, and I know it. But I also know what I want.”

There’s a quiet pause between them, filled only by the soft murmur of the lounge and the clinking of glasses in the background.

“And what is that?” Erica asks, her voice soft but genuinely curious.

Steve’s gaze drifts down to his glass for a moment before he looks back up at her, the openness in his eyes catching her off guard. “I want someone real. Someone I can talk to, laugh with…someone who doesn’t mind that I’m not polished. I’m a simple guy. I don’t need a lot, just someone who sees me, you know? Not the persona on a dating app, but the real me.”

His honesty is disarming. Erica finds herself listening more closely than she intended, feeling an unexpected pang of empathy for this man sitting across from her. She gestures to the waiter for another round, feeling the need to reciprocate his openness, even if it makes her more than just a little uncomfortable.

When the waiter leaves, she takes a slow sip of her wine before speaking. “I get it, Steve. It’s hard to put yourself out there, to risk being seen and being vulnerable.” She pauses, weighing her words. “After my last relationship ended…I told myself I wouldn’t make room for another man in my life. Not for a while, at least.”

Steve’s eyes soften as he watches her, sensing the shift in her tone. “Sounds like it wasn’t an easy ending.”

Erica lets out a small, bitter laugh, surprised by the emotion welling up inside her. “No, it wasn’t. I got hurt - badly, actually. And after that, I just shut myself off – built walls around me, threw myself into my work, convinced myself that I didn’t need anyone else. It was safer that way.”

Steve leans in slightly, his voice gentle. “I get that. Protecting yourself from more injuries.”

Erica nods, staring into her wine glass. “Yeah. But the truth is, it’s lonely sometimes. Still, I don’t think I’m ready to take that risk again. Not yet.”

The vulnerability in her own voice surprises her, but at the same time, it feels like a weight lifted. She hadn’t planned on sharing this with anyone, especially not someone she’d just met on a cruise. But Steve has a way of making her feel safe, like she doesn’t have to hide behind her walls.

Steve reaches out, his hand resting gently on the table, just close enough to hers without being presumptive. “I wish I could change that.” he says quietly, the sincerity in his words clear.

For a moment, Erica feels a strange tug in her chest, a pull towards this man who’s sitting there, so honest and open with her. But she knows herself too well. She isn’t ready for this - whatever “this” is. She reaches out, placing her hand on his, giving it a light squeeze.

“The friendzone,” she says softly, “is the best I can offer right now, Steve.”

There’s a brief flicker of disappointment in his eyes, but he smiles, his hand turning so he can gently return the squeeze. “Your best is good enough for me, Erica.”

The tension between them melts into something warmer, something easier. Steve isn’t pushing, and Erica appreciates that more than he could know. They sit back, their hands parting as the conversation shifts to lighter topics - travel, their favorite foods, the quirks of the other passengers they’ve noticed on the ship.

By the time they call it a night, the heaviness that had lingered between them is gone, replaced by a mutual respect and a shared understanding of where they stand. Steve walks her back to the elevators, offering a soft “goodnight” before they part ways.




Back in her suite, the quiet feels comforting rather than isolating.
Erica slips out of her dress and into her silk kimono, letting the fabric glide against her skin as she heads toward the terrace. The night air is cool but refreshing, and she stands there for a moment, gazing out at the dark, endless ocean. The stars above twinkle faintly, the sound of the waves below a steady, rhythmic lull.

She pulls her phone from the small table by the lounge chair, unlocking it to see a message from Claire. Erica’s lips curl into a soft smile as she opens the photo. There they are - Spot and Tiger - charging towards the camera, their tiny paws skidding across the polished hardwood floor. It’s impossible not to laugh at the sight, their furry little faces so full of life and mischief. “They’ll remember me.” she thinks, her heart warming.

With that comforting thought, she heads back inside, slipping into bed. The duvet is cool against her skin as she settles in, her mind still spinning slightly from the night’s conversation with Steve. Vulnerability isn’t something she is used to sharing so openly, but tonight, it felt… okay, liberating in a way.

As she closes her eyes, the rhythmic sound of the waves outside lulls her to sleep, the warmth of Steve’s friendship, and the simple joy of her kittens back home, lingering in her thoughts.




While Erica enjoys her evening with Steve, unaware of the storm brewing, Nicholas Carlisle sits in Evelyn’s VIP suite, carefully calculating his next move. The suite is dimly lit, soft amber light casting a warm glow, the perfect backdrop for the manipulation he’s about to set in motion.

Evelyn, exhausted but content after the excursion, pours herself a glass of wine. She moves with a relaxed grace, unaware of the thoughts swirling in Nicholas’ mind. She settles next to him, sinking into the plush cushions. Nicholas watches her closely, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considers how best to plant the seed of doubt in her mind. He can feel the walls closing in - Erica’s probing questions, her observations, and worst of all, her following him in Cozumel. Something has to be done before she unravels more than he can control.

He keeps his voice soft, knowing that with Evelyn, subtlety is key. “Evie, there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about. I’ve hesitated because I didn’t want to upset you.”

Evelyn, sensing his seriousness, sets her glass down, her brow furrowing. “Nick, what is it? You’re worrying me.”

Nicholas takes her hand, the gesture intimate and comforting, but his eyes are calculating. “It’s about Erica.”

Evelyn blinks, confusion flickering across her face. “Erica? What about her?”

He hesitates, as if weighing whether to speak. His pause is calculated, creating a sense of gravity around his words. “I don’t want to alarm you, but I think she’s been… acting a little strange. At first, I thought maybe it was nothing, but after today, I can’t ignore it anymore.”

Evelyn shifts, her body tensing. “Strange? What do you mean? She’s always been wonderful to me.”

Nicholas leans forward slightly, maintaining eye contact, his tone careful and measured. “Yesterday, when I had to step away for that business call, I noticed her. She was watching me, following me, trying to stay out of sight but not doing a very good job of it. I didn’t mention it then because I thought maybe I was just being paranoid, but…” He pauses, letting the weight of his words sink in. “Then, today, during the excursion - she was doing it again. Watching. Hanging back.”

Evelyn’s expression tightens, confusion giving way to concern. “That doesn’t sound like her at all.”

Nicholas nods, his gaze steady, but a flicker of satisfaction flashes in his eyes - he knows he has her attention now. “I know, it doesn’t seem like her. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. And then - this is where it gets weird - Valerie, one of the women from the tour group, approached me when we got back on the ship. She said she’d noticed it too, that Erica was acting…strange, as if keeping an eye on me.”

Evelyn straightens, clearly startled. “Somebody else noticed it as well?”

Nicholas nods slowly, as if he’s reluctant to bring it up but knows it’s important. “Yeah. She didn’t want to get involved, but she thought she should say something. When someone else sees it too, it’s hard to just dismiss.”

Evelyn stares down at her wine, her fingers tracing the stem of the glass as doubt creeps in. “I… I don’t understand. Erica’s never given me a reason to be suspicious of her. She’s been nothing but supportive.”

Nicholas leans back, his expression softening, his hand gently squeezing hers. “I know. I didn’t want to believe it either. But you’re wealthy, Evie. People can change when they see an opportunity. I’m not saying that’s what’s happening, but…” He lets the sentence hang, planting the thought without fully committing to it.

Evelyn looks up at him, her eyes clouded with uncertainty. “You think she’s… what? Trying to get close to me for money?”

Nicholas quickly shakes his head, tightening his grip on her hand as if trying to reassure her. “I don’t want to think that. But I’ve seen it before, Evie. People get close, they ask too many questions, and before you know it, there’s more going on than you realize. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Evelyn pulls her hand back slowly, conflicted. She stands up, pacing a few steps away, her mind racing. “I don’t know, Nick… it just doesn’t make sense. Why would Erica do something like that?”

Nicholas rises from the couch, stepping behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders in a gentle, comforting gesture. “I hope I’m wrong, Evie. I really do. But I’ve been around long enough to know when something feels off. Maybe it’s nothing, but…I’d rather we be cautious.”

Evelyn takes a deep breath, turning to face him, her arms crossed protectively over her chest. “I’ll talk to her. Maybe it’s just a misunderstanding.”

Nicholas leans in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, his voice barely above a whisper. “I hope that’s all it is. I just want to protect you.”

She nods, but the doubt is already there, seeded in her heart. Nicholas watches her carefully, his plan unfolding with precision. He can see the conflict in her eyes, the uncertainty gnawing at her. It’s only a matter of time before the doubt festers, pushing Erica away.

The tension lingers in the air at breakfast the next day. Erica steps into “The Voyage”, scanning the tables until she spots Evelyn seated with Nicholas. She approaches, offering a warm smile, but immediately senses something is off. Evelyn’s posture is stiff, her expression guarded. The air between them feels colder, distant.

“Good morning, Evelyn!” Erica says, sliding into the chair beside her. “Did you sleep well?”

Evelyn doesn’t meet her eyes. “Fine. Thanks.”

Nicholas, sitting beside Evelyn, offers a small nod of acknowledgment, but it’s clear he’s watching the exchange closely. Erica frowns, sensing the shift. “Are you okay, Evie? You seem a bit…off.”

Evelyn sighs, setting her fork down. “Look, Erica, I need to talk to you about something.”

The seriousness in her voice makes Erica sit up straighter, her stomach tightening with unease. “Of course. What’s going on?”

Evelyn glances at Nicholas, then back at Erica, her face strained. “It’s just…I’ve noticed some things lately. About you. I mean, you’ve been asking a lot of questions, especially about Nick, and…well, yesterday during the excursion…” She falters, clearly struggling with the words.

Erica’s heart races. “What?”

Evelyn hesitates, her gaze flicking to Nicholas for support. He stays silent, letting her speak, his eyes trained on Erica. “I don’t know, Erica. It’s just…I’ve felt like you’ve been following us. Watching Nick. Even other people have noticed.”

Erica blinks in shock, her mind reeling. “Following you? Evelyn, I would never…”

Evelyn raises a hand, cutting her off. “Please, Erica. I don’t want to make a big deal out of this, but…maybe it’s best if we keep some space from now on.”

Erica feels the words hit like a punch to the gut. She glances at Nicholas, whose neutral expression hides the triumph she knows he’s feeling. He has won. He’s planted the doubt, and now Evelyn is pushing her away.

With a heavy heart, Erica nods, forcing a smile. “Of course, Evie. If that’s what you want.”

Evelyn nods, looking relieved but conflicted, and with that, Erica knows that their bond has been fractured. She rises from the table, her mind racing, and walks away, the realization hitting her hard: she’s underestimated Nicholas Carlisle. And now, she’s paying the price.




Erica storms back to her suite, her heart pounding with a mix of anger and frustration. The door slams shut behind her with a force that rattles the frame, and she leans against it for a moment, taking a deep breath, willing herself to calm down. But the frustration boils inside her, a mixture of rage at Nicholas for being such a conniving manipulator, at Evelyn for being so easily swayed, and at herself - for not handling it better.

She paces the length of the room, muttering under her breath. “How could she fall for his lies? It’s so obvious!” Her mind spins as the conversation replays in her head. The coldness in Evelyn’s voice. The way she looked at Nicholas for support. Erica had been blindsided, pushed out of Evelyn’s life by that smooth-talking con artist.

She grabs “Pride and Prejudice” from the small table by the bed, her fingers curling around the cover. Without thinking, she marches out onto the terrace, the warm sea breeze hitting her face as she throws herself into the lounge chair. She stares out at the endless blue horizon for a moment, the tranquil scene doing little to soothe the storm inside her.

“If that’s what you want, Evelyn!” Erica’s voice is louder than she intends, her words hanging in the air as if accusing the sea itself. She presses her lips into a tight line, feeling the sting of betrayal sharper than she expected. She had seen the signs, she “knew” Nicholas was up to something. That he is a liar. A manipulator. And she could feel it in her gut that he is in cohorts with Valerie Snyder. They aren’t just friendly passengers - they are partners in something shady.

But if Evelyn didn’t want to listen, if she was too blinded by the butterflies Nicholas had put in her stomach, what more could Erica do? The thought burns her. The old Erica would have dug deeper, confronted Nicholas head-on, and dismantled his lies one by one. But that was back then. Before the Tony Maze incident. Before the exhaustion, the healing, the weight of everything that had happened.

Erica sighs, pushing her aviator sunglasses down onto the bridge of her nose, the lenses catching the bright sunlight. “It’s not my problem.” she says, more to herself now. “It’s not my cup of tea.” She’s here to rest, to find some peace - not to investigate this con artist. Not to get sucked into someone else’s mess.

She opens “Pride and Prejudice” in her lap, thumbing through the pages until she finds the dog-eared one she’d left off on the other day. Her fingers pause there, running over the text, but her mind drifts. Maybe Evelyn would wake up one day and see Nicholas for who he truly was. Or maybe she wouldn’t. Either way, Erica couldn’t let herself get dragged into this. Not this time.

She settles back into the chair, trying to focus on the words in front of her. “Not my problem.” she repeats, quieter this time, though the frustration still simmers beneath her skin.


As Erica sits in the lounge chair, the soft sounds of the sea crashing against the hull of the “Sea Dream” barely register in her mind. The confrontation at the breakfast table gnaws at her, a persistent ache that refuses to fade. She feels the weight of Evelyn’s words pressing down on her, suffocating her resolve. “What if I’m wrong?” The thought flits through her mind, but she quickly shakes it away. She knows Nicholas is not to be trusted.

Her gaze flickers to her Rolex, gleaming in the sun. The watch has always been more than just a timepiece; it’s a connection to her father, a reminder of her promise to him. She glances at the time and realizes she still has an hour before her massage appointment with Mei. The prospect of the soothing treatment gives her a fleeting sense of comfort, but it does nothing to quell the unease in her heart.

She unclasps the watch, feeling its familiar weight in her palm, and turns it over. The engraved words catch her eye, the letters etched into the metal glinting in the light. “Stand for something or fall for anything” The phrase reverberates in her mind, a powerful echo of her father’s voice. This isn’t just a motto; it’s a creed, a way of life that he wanted her to embody.

Softly, Erica runs her finger over the engraving, feeling the fine lines beneath her touch. The words are not just inscribed on the back of the case; they are woven into the fabric of her identity. Every day, she wears this reminder against her skin, a constant companion whispering wisdom in her ear. They speak of courage, integrity, and the strength to stand up for what she believes in - even when it’s uncomfortable.

“I can’t just look the other way.” she murmurs to herself, the conviction rising within her like a tide. “I won’t let Carlisle win.” The thought ignites something inside her, a fire that pushes aside the doubts and fears. If she allows Nicholas to manipulate Evelyn and drive a wedge between them, she betrays not only her friend but also the values her father instilled in her – betraying him and herself.

With renewed determination, she slips the watch back onto her wrist, feeling its weight settle comfortably against her skin. It’s a reminder that she is not just a passive observer in this situation; she has the power to act. Erica stands, a sense of purpose coursing through her veins. She needs to expose the truth - no matter how uncomfortable it may be.

Taking a deep breath, she steels herself for the battle ahead. With her father’s words echoing in her mind, Erica, again, is ready to stand for something.

The scent of mint and eucalyptus greets Erica as she steps into the dimly lit spa, instantly soothing her senses. The “Sea Dream's” spa is an oasis of calm, with soft music playing in the background and the gentle trickle of water from a nearby fountain adding to the tranquil atmosphere. The room is bathed in warm, amber light, casting a peaceful glow over the massage tables.

Mei, petite with kind eyes and a soft, melodic voice, greets Erica with a smile. "Good afternoon, Miss Sinclair. How are you feeling today?"

Erica offers a small smile in return. "Ready for some relaxation."

Mei nods, leading her into a private room where the air is thick with serenity. "You’re in good hands. We’ll work all that tension away." she says as she helps Erica take off her bikini top.

Erica slides onto the massage table, letting the plush fabric and warmth embrace her body. As Mei begins working on her back, her hands are gentle but firm, seeking out the knots and tension that have built up over the last few days. Erica winces slightly and exhales as Mei reaches her right shoulder, where the muscle around the star-shaped scar still feels tight and occasionally stiff.

Mei pauses for a moment, her fingers hovering over the area. “We will be very careful around your injury.” she says softly.

Erica, her face pressed into the soft cradle of the table, nods slightly, but the very moment as she does, a flash of memory breaks through her calm exterior. She’s back in that warehouse, the sharp echo of gunfire ringing in her ears. Maze's menacing grin fills her vision as the bullet tears through the air, then searing pain - like a hammer blow - knocks her off balance. For a split second, the world had gone white, the sound of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. She can still feel the jarring impact of the bullet slamming into her shoulder, and the smell of gunpowder stings her memory.

The sensation is gone in an instant, but the echo of it lingers, as it always does.

Mei’s hands move gently now, working around the scar, careful not to cause any discomfort. “You’re very strong.” Mei says softly, her voice full of quiet admiration.

Erica doesn’t respond immediately, allowing herself to be lulled back into the present by the rhythmic pressure of Mei’s skilled hands. The knots in her back and shoulders slowly unravel, and the tension begins to drain away.

“I try.” Erica finally murmurs, more to herself than to Mei.

But even as the physical tension eases, Erica’s mind remains sharp, focused on the task ahead. She might be here to relax, but she knows she can’t leave the Nicholas problem unresolved. Proof. That’s what she needs. Something undeniable. Her mind starts to turn over the idea, formulating a plan.

Photos. Pictures of Nicholas and Valerie together would be a start. She could tail them casually, snapping shots whenever the opportunity arises. With the hustle and bustle of “The Voyage” or the busy plaza, blending in should be no problem at all.

As Mei continues to work on her back, Erica feels a small smile curve at the corner of her lips. The relaxation helps, but her mind is already working, calculating the next move.



Later, dressed in casual but chic attire, Erica steps onto the deck where the main restaurants are located. Casually strolling along, she’s blending into the relaxed crowd as her eyes track Nicholas Carlisle. She sees him entering “The Voyage” with Evelyn for lunch. His hand is on the small of Evelyn’s back - gentle, protective, but Erica knows better. She raises her phone, pretending to check messages but expertly snapping a few clear shots of Nicholas from the corner of her eye. The two have no idea she’s watching.

Satisfied, she turns her attention to the plaza where she spots Valerie sitting alone at one of the small cafés. The woman looks comfortable, not like someone who’s a casual acquaintance of Nicholas, but like someone who belongs in this scene. Erica narrows her eyes, pretending to admire the view as she discreetly captures several photos of Valerie with her phone.

The photos alone are not solid evidence, but they are enough to start a deeper dig.
Back in her suite, away from any prying eyes, she sends the photos to John Dance, the former CIA operative, now private security advisor.
Erica calls his number to fill him in. When John picks up, his familiar chuckle greets her.

“Erica, I thought you were on vacation?”

“I am.” she replies, smiling at his tone. “But let’s just say some things seem to follow me around. Listen: I’ve sent you a couple of photos. They call themselves Nicholas Carlisle and Valerie Snyder. These two are trouble, John. I can feel it. Can you check into them, please?”

John hums thoughtfully. “Got it. I’ll dig around and get back to you. Just don’t get too deep into this. You’re supposed to be relaxing.”

Erica laughs, though a hint of frustration lingers in her voice. “I’m trying, John. Believe me, I’m really trying.”



With nothing else to do but wait for John Dance’s report, Erica decides it’s time to let loose. She heads to the ship’s pool area, the warm sun beating down on her skin as the splash of water and bursts of laughter fill the air. She’s barely finished putting on some sun lotion when she hears someone call her name.

“Erica! Just in time!” Steve McKinley calls out, his grin wide as he jogs over, a volleyball in hand. “I need you on my team. Hope you’re ready for some action.”

Erica raises a brow, a smirk forming. “Oh, I don’t just play - I win.”

Steve laughs. “Good. There are a couple of pretty decent players on the other teams.”

Soon, they’re thrown into the thick of it. The pool volleyball tournament might be ad-hoc and casual, but the competition? Not so much. Erica dives headfirst into the game, her competitive edge kicking in immediately. The cool water splashes up as she lunges for a low pass, sending the ball flying back over the net. Steve is right there, blocking their opponents with a well-timed jump, his laughter blending with the cheers from the crowd of onlookers.

Their opponents - a couple in their thirties - serve the ball hard, aiming straight for Erica, but she’s quick. With a smooth dive, she sends the ball arching high over the net. Steve, like a hawk, jumps and spikes it down with a decisive slap. Water splashes everywhere as the ball hits the pool's surface with a satisfying splash.

“Boom! That’s how it’s done!” Steve shouts, raising his arms in triumph. The crowd roars and whistles in approval, while Erica pushes her wet hair out of her face, grinning.

They take down all comers, the playful intensity rising with each round. Erica’s focus shifts entirely to the game - there’s no room for thoughts of con artists or schemes, just the rush of competition and the thrill of the moment. With every powerful hit, every leap and dive, she lets go of the tension that had been coiling in her since she met Nicholas Carlisle.

As they head into the final match, Steve glances at her, panting but beaming. “Last one. You ready?”

Erica grins, eyes locked on the net. “I was born ready…”

The ball is served, and it’s a fast one. Erica reacts instinctively, diving to keep it in play. Steve sets it up perfectly, and with a solid jump, Erica spikes it straight down, ending the game with a triumphant splash.
“Yes!”
The pool erupts in cheers, and Steve grabs her hand, pulling her into a celebratory high-five.

“Nice moves, Sinclair! You’re a natural.” he says, still catching his breath.

Erica laughs, wiping water from her face. “You’re not bad yourself, McKinley.”

For the first time in days, Erica feels the weight of everything - Nicholas, the con, the mission – really lift, if only for a little while. The sun beats down on her, the water drips from her hair and skin, and she realizes how much she needed this - a break, a moment of unbridled fun, a reminder that there’s more to life than chasing down criminals.

As the crowd disperses, Steve gives her a playful nudge. “You know, if this law thing doesn’t work out for you, you’ve got a future in pool volleyball.”

Erica chuckles, feeling lighter than she has in days. “I’ll keep that in mind.”


As the pool tournament wraps up, Erica grabs a towel and begins to dry off, her muscles pleasantly sore from the exertion. The sun is dipping lower in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over the ship’s pool deck, and laughter echoes around her as the other players congratulate each other. She wraps the towel around her shoulders, feeling the breeze making her skin feel a little chilly.

From the corner of her eye, Erica catches a glimpse of Steve McKinley talking to one of the women from the opposing teams. The woman, with her light olive skin, dark hair, and big, expressive brown eyes, seems to be in her mid-30s, and there’s an easy, authentic smile on her face. Erica pauses for a moment, watching the two of them interact. Steve, a little rough around the edges but undeniably charming, seems relaxed – and really happy.

The woman leans in, clearly enjoying Steve’s company, and after a few shared words, she laughs, a soft, melodic sound that floats over to Erica. She gestures toward the poolside bar, a subtle invitation. Steve grins, a little bashful but clearly pleased, and nods. The two of them head toward the bar, their shoulders brushing non-accidentally as they walk.

Erica smiles to herself as she watches them settle onto stools at the bar, still laughing and talking. The playful banter between them is unmistakable, and for a moment, she feels a quiet sense of contentment. The evening before she had set her boundaries with Steve, and he had respected them without hesitation. Now, seeing him hit it off with someone else, a warm sense of happiness fills her.

She adjusts the towel around her shoulders and, before heading back to her suite, takes one last glance at the bar. Steve leans in closer to the woman, clearly engaged in the conversation. Their body language speaks volumes: there’s an ease to their interaction, something natural and unforced.

Erica grins, a little amused and genuinely happy for him. He deserves to find someone who appreciates him, someone who sees past the rough edges to the heart of the kind, straightforward man he is.

With a lightness in her step and a sense of peace, Erica turns and makes her way off the pool deck. The breeze ruffles her damp hair as she heads back to her suite, a small smile still lingering on her lips.

I do like the Scene between Erica and Mei! I still have some catching up to do - but I will get there - finally

ear @Caesar73 , I'll add the next part tonight so you'll have time to catch up. Maybe Erica can find a competent masseuse when she's back in New York to ease those tense muscles a little more.

As Erica drops the beach towel into the laundry chute, her phone pings. She checks the message and feels her heart bounce when she sees a short video from Claire - her kittens, Spot and Tiger, playing with their favorite toy. The sight of their little paws batting at the ball of yarn makes her heart melt. She chuckles softly, momentarily warmed by the slice of home Claire has sent her.

But her amusement quickly turns to focus when she spots another notification: a message from John Dance. His brief message is to the point: Check your email.

Her pulse quickens, and she immediately grabs her laptop, firing it up. Within moments, her inbox opens, and there it is, a message from John with attachments. She opens the files and feels a surge of validation and dread. Mugshots of Nicholas Carlisle and Valerie Snyder – real names Frank Culver and Josephine Silva - stare back at her, each of them flanked by criminal records. Both of them convicted of multiple fraud. Their records stretch back years, using different aliases, different schemes, leaving in their wake a trail of broken promises, stolen money, and ruined lives.
The two are seasoned criminals, and Nicholas’s clean-cut charm is nothing but a mask.

A small smile curls at the corner of her lips. She clenches her fist in silent triumph. She knew the guy was dirty. This doesn’t prove he’s currently running a scam on Evelyn, but it’s the lead she needs, yet still a potentially dangerous thread to pull.

Erica sits back, the weight of the discovery sinking in. Now, she has real information, but the question remains: what’s her next move?

She forwards the pictures to her phone and powers down the laptop knowing that her next move is to take a rainfall shower, wash her hair and get ready for dinner since chances are good that she might meet Evelyn at the restaurant.



The air in “The Voyage” is thick with the quiet hum of conversations and the clinking of silverware on fine china, but Erica can’t focus on her meal. Across the room, she watches Nicholas slip his phone into his pocket, talk to Evelyn and then make his way toward the exit. His movements are casual and he seems to feel untouchable. Erica feels he’s not just making another “important phone call” - he’s meeting Valerie.

Now is her chance to talk to Evie.

Her heart quickens as she pushes back her chair. She’s tried to hold off, tried to find the perfect moment, but if she doesn’t act now, Nicholas will keep sinking his claws deeper into Evelyn, leaving her broken and bankrupt, like so many before.

She stands, smooths her summer dress, and walks over to Evelyn’s table. The older woman, elegant in her pearls, her engagement ring sparkling on her finger, looks up from her meal with a warm smile, unaware of the storm brewing. Erica hesitates for a second, swallowing down the knot of guilt in her throat. She has to do this.

“Evelyn, please, could I speak to you for a moment?” she says softly, her voice tinged with an apology she’s not entirely sure she owes.

Evelyn’s smile falters, just for a second. She looks toward the door Nicholas exited from, and then back at Erica. “Of course. What about?”

Erica pulls out her phone, her fingers trembling slightly. She lowers her voice, careful not to draw attention from the other diners. “I’d like to show you something.”

Evelyn looks confused but nods, leaning in as Erica opens the gallery on her phone. Erica takes a deep breath, scrolling to the images John Dance sent her earlier. Mugshots of Nicholas Carlisle and Valerie Snyder. Faces caught in stark, unflattering light. Below the photos, lists of their crimes: fraud, theft, manipulation - destroyed lives left in their wake.

“I’m so sorry, Evelyn.” Erica whispers, her heart aching for the woman. “But I couldn’t just let this happen. Not to you.”

Evelyn’s eyes narrow as she stares at the screen. For a moment, it seems like she’s taking it in. But then, her lips press into a tight line, and she shakes her head. “This… this can’t be real.” she mutters. “These pictures… they’re doctored. You’re trying to drive a wedge between us.”

“Why would I do that?” Erica asks, her voice calm but firm. She leans forward, lowering the phone, her gaze locking with Evelyn’s. “What reason would I have to lie to you?”

Evelyn’s hand trembles as she grips the stem of her wine glass, her knuckles white. “I…I don’t know. But Nick…he loves me. He wouldn’t…”

“Evelyn,” Erica interrupts gently, “you don’t have to believe me. But think about it. Think about what you really know about him. What he’s told you. His business associates, the phone calls he’s constantly making, the stories about his friends and family…does any of it add up? Have you ever seen any proof?”

Evelyn’s face softens, her defenses starting to crack. Erica presses on, her voice low but urgent. “And why are his face and that of this woman – Valerie - in these police mugshots, Evelyn? Check it out yourself: criminal records are public documents.”

There’s silence between them, thick and heavy. Evelyn’s eyes fill with doubt, the weight of Erica’s words sinking in, but she still can’t let go. Not yet.

Erica doesn’t push further. She knows she’s planted the seed. All she can do now is hope it grows.

“I wish you a wonderful evening.” Erica says quietly, her tone gentle. “And… good luck.” She gives Evelyn’s hand a brief squeeze before turning away.

As she walks back to her table, she feels the pit of frustration deepening in her stomach. Her main course is cold now, but food is the last thing on her mind. She doesn’t regret what she said - it had to be done - but Evelyn’s blind faith in Nicholas stings more than she thought it would.

Minutes later, Nicholas returns. Erica watches from the corner of her eye as he sits down, flashing Evelyn a charming smile. But something’s different now. Evelyn doesn’t smile back. Instead, she stares down at her plate, her food untouched, her hands nervously fidgeting in her lap.

Erica catches the sadness in Evelyn’s eyes, the glimmer of realization starting to surface. It’s faint, but it’s there. That hope, that desperate need for love, has led Evelyn straight into the arms of a con artist. Now, she’s beginning to see the truth.

Erica’s heart aches as she watches the older woman, torn between love and betrayal. There’s nothing more she can do for her tonight. But soon, Evelyn will face a choice: trust in the fantasy Nicholas has spun around her, or accept the cold, hard truth.

Either way, the facade is beginning to crack.

As Erica watches from her table, Evelyn’s sadness deepens. Nicholas, oblivious, leans in closer to Evelyn, trying to regain her attention, his voice a low murmur. But something is clearly off. Evelyn barely responds, lost in her thoughts, the weight of Erica’s words visibly pulling her down.

Erica sighs, feeling a small sense of accomplishment but also a wave of concern. Nicholas won’t let this slide.

Her suspicions prove right when she steps out of the restaurant later, intending to head back to her suite and lose herself in “Pride and Prejudice” for the evening. The air on the ship's promenade is still warm, but it does little to ease the tightness in her chest. She walks with a purpose, her instincts screaming that she’s being watched. Her fingers brush the strap of her handbag, her pace steady, her senses alert.

Then she hears them - the quiet, calculated footsteps behind her.

Erica’s heart skips a beat, but she doesn’t break stride. She rounds the corner toward the stairs, only to find Nicholas leaning casually against the railing, a cigarette in his hand, his gaze cold and predatory.

“Erica.” he says smoothly, though there's an edge to his voice now, like a sharpened knife under silk. “We need to talk.”

Before she can respond, a second figure emerges from the shadows of the staircase - Valerie. Her eyes gleam with contempt, her smile almost too wide, as if she’s enjoying the game they’re playing. She steps closer to Nicholas, positioning herself beside him like a partner in crime - literally.

“Quite the investigator, aren’t you?” Valerie purrs, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “Taking pictures, snooping around. You’re a regular detective.”

Erica keeps her expression neutral despite the adrenaline surging through her veins. She can feel the danger in the air, the tension rising like a tidal wave, but she refuses to show weakness. “I’m caught in their crosshairs now.” she thinks, her pulse racing.

“You think you can ruin everything, don’t you?” Nicholas says, his smile a practiced one, but his eyes...they’re darker now, colder. “Showing Evelyn those pictures - what’s your game here? Jealous? Or do you want your share?”

There it is - a crack in his carefully constructed mask. For just a split second, his charm slips away, replaced by something raw and dangerous. His voice drops an octave, a sharpness in it now that wasn’t there before. His foot moves slightly, as if he’s considering stepping closer, physically imposing himself. He’s used to controlling people, and for the first time, Erica sees the real Nicholas - the con artist beneath the gentleman’s exterior.

Valerie steps forward, her smile fading into something harder, her eyes narrowing. “Listen, sweetheart,” she says, her tone venomous, “you don’t know who you’re messing with. You’re just a little lawyer on vacation. This isn’t your fight. Walk away while we may still let you.”

Erica holds her ground, feeling the tension between them like a live wire. But she’s not intimidated - she’s faced worse before. Her mind flashes to a time when threats weren’t just words, when a man with a gun had cornered her, and she’d survived that too. She breathes deeply, reminding herself she’s not alone this time.

“Is that a threat?” she asks calmly, her eyes locking with Valerie’s. “Because if you’re trying to scare me off, it’s not working.”

Nicholas smirks, but his frustration is palpable now, being barely able to disguise the menace behind it. “You don’t want to be the reason Evelyn gets hurt, do you? You know how quickly love can turn sour when someone meddles in affairs they don’t understand.”

Erica meets his gaze steadily, her resolve hardening despite the gnawing sense of danger. “He thinks he can intimidate me. But I didn’t back down from a man with a gun, and I won’t cower before a couple of con artists.” she tells herself, her fists clenching by her sides. Her father’s words ring in her ears: “Stand for something or fall for anything.”

“Your strong-arm tactics don’t work, Nick. Stay away from Evie.” she says, her voice steady despite the turmoil bubbling within.

Nicholas’ expression hardens, and his charm completely vanishes, replaced by something almost feral. He leans closer, his voice dropping to a low growl. “At sea, people can disappear, you know.”

There it is - the threat. Open, unveiled.
It hits her like a punch to the gut, but Erica doesn’t flinch. She’s faced killers, liars, and thieves before, and this moment is no different. She straightens her shoulders, forcing herself to breathe through the surge of fear.

“Is that your plan, Nicholas?” she shoots back, her voice like steel. “Make me disappear because I won’t let you scam an innocent woman? You’re more pathetic than I thought.”

The moment of silence that follows is thick with tension. Nicholas takes a step closer, too close now, and she can smell the cigarette smoke lingering on his breath. Valerie watches, her smile a twisted reflection of pleasure, as if this confrontation is just another game to her.

Pretty Intense Confrontation. A classic Stand-Off. Nicholas and Valery try to subdue Erica by Force. But Erica holds her Ground. As she tells Nicolas: His strong-arm tactics are not working. Valerie tells Erica she does not not know who she is dealing with. In Fact it is the other Way around. Bonnie and Clyde fell very confident .... we will see how this Power Play will play out.

Dear @Caesar73 , let's see what happens next...

But then, as if on cue, a familiar voice breaks through the tension.

“Erica! There you are!”

Steve McKinley strides up to her, his expression brightening as he spots her. Beside him is Antonia, the woman from the pool, her smile warm and inviting, oblivious to the charged atmosphere.

“Hey, I wanted to introduce you to someone.” Steve says, completely unaware of the danger simmering just moments before. “This is Antonia. Antonia, this is Erica.”

Antonia extends her hand, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders. “It’s so nice to meet you, Erica. I’ve heard a lot about you from Steve!”

Erica forces a smile, feeling her pulse still hammering in her chest. As she takes Antonia’s hand, her fingers tremble slightly, the adrenaline still coursing through her veins. She hopes they don’t notice.

“Nice to meet you too, Antonia.” she replies, her voice steady despite the emotional storm raging beneath her skin. Her mind is still racing, replaying Nicholas’ thinly veiled threat, the coldness in his eyes.

Steve, oblivious as ever, turns to Erica with a slight frown. “Are you okay? You looked like you were in a heated conversation with those two.”

Erica exhales slowly, feeling the adrenaline begin to ebb away, though her hands are still clammy. “I’m fine.” She assures him, her smile returning, but her mind is still stuck on the confrontation. Nicholas and Valerie had shown their hand tonight, and it’s clear now - she’s officially in their crosshairs.

But the danger is far from over.



As Nicholas and Valerie have withdrawn wordlessly, Erica watches them go, her heart pounding in her ears. The weight of the encounter hits her all at once, the fear, the anger, the overwhelming sense that she’s no longer just an observer in this game. She’s a target now, whether she likes it or not.

“Thank God for Steve.” she thinks, knowing that if he and Antonia hadn’t shown up, things could have escalated fast.

Steve’s brow furrows with concern. “You sure you’re alright?”

Erica takes a deep breath, centering herself. The tension begins to dissipate, though she’s still on high alert. “I’m fine.” she repeats, more convincingly this time. But in her mind, she knows there’s no turning back.


Antonia studies her, doubt flickering in her eyes. “If you’re fine now,” she says with a raised brow, “I don’t want to see you when you’re doing not so great.”

Erica lets out a half-hearted chuckle, feeling the weight of the confrontation still pressing down on her chest. She shrugs. “Do you want to hear the truth? I think you appeared just in time to prevent fists from flying.”

Steve’s face pales, his easygoing demeanor shifting to shock. “Fists? Who are those two? You’re not the type who starts a brawl…”

Erica hesitates. She’s not one to rush into fights, but the way Nicholas and Valerie had cornered her, their thinly veiled threats - it could have escalated. Quickly.

She sighs, rubbing a hand across her temple. “Look, I don’t have time to explain everything right now, but I need to tell you the truth, at least part of it. The stakes are high, and I think someone’s in real danger.”

Steve and Antonia exchange a look, their concern deepening.

“Listen.” Erica continues, her tone more urgent. “If you come with me, I’ll explain everything, but I need to talk to someone right now who might be in serious trouble.” Her eyes flick toward the path leading to the VIP suites. She can’t waste any more time - every second matters.

Just from her expression, from the tension in her voice, Steve and Antonia realize she’s dead serious. “Okay.” Steve says, nodding. “Lead the way.”

Erica doesn’t wait. She starts moving, her pace quick but purposeful. Steve and Antonia fall in step beside her, jogging slightly to keep up. As they make their way through the winding corridors of the ship, Erica begins to talk, her voice low but intense, the urgency pushing her words forward.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on those two - the ones you saw me with. Nicholas and Valerie. Except, that’s not their real names. They’re con artists - dangerous ones. And Evelyn, the woman I’m trying to protect… she’s their next target.”

Antonia’s eyes widen, and she glances at Steve, who looks equally bewildered but focused. “Con artists? Like, scammers?”

“Exactly. They’ve done this before - targeted wealthy, vulnerable people, manipulated them into relationships, then drained their bank accounts dry.” Erica’s voice is tight, the frustration and anger rising again. “They’re using fake identities. Nicholas is actually Frank Culver, and Valerie’s real name is Josephine Silva.”

They reach a flight of stairs leading up to the VIP suites. Erica takes them two at a time, Steve and Antonia right behind her. As they ascend, Erica pulls out her phone, swiping quickly to the folder where John Dance’s files are stored. She turns the screen to them, showing them the mugshots - stark, unflattering images of Nicholas and Valerie, or rather, Frank and Josephine.

“They’ve been arrested before.” Erica explains, her breath quickening with the exertion of climbing. “Criminal records are public. They’re using aliases all the time. They change identities like they change clothes.”

Antonia’s eyes narrow as she studies the photos, then she mutters, “Caramba…No wonder they feel threatened by you.”

Steve shakes his head in disbelief, looking between the photos and Erica. “And Evelyn…she’s caught in their web?”

Erica nods grimly. “Yes, and she doesn’t even realize it. Nicholas – Frank - has her convinced he loves her. He’s charming, manipulative. He’ll bleed her dry if I don’t stop him.”

They reach the VIP corridor, the plush carpet muffling their footsteps. Erica’s pulse quickens again, but for a different reason this time - she’s almost there, almost at Evelyn’s door. She can only hope she’s not too late.

They stop in front of the door to Evelyn’s suite. It’s grand, fitting for a woman of her stature and wealth. The brass number on her door glints under the soft hallway lights, but to Erica, it feels like a barrier. She knocks, the sound echoing in the quiet corridor.

“Evie, it’s me, Erica. Please open.” she calls out, her voice firm but gentle, trying to keep her nerves in check.

For a moment, there’s nothing but silence. Steve and Antonia stand beside her, tense, waiting. Erica’s heart pounds in her chest, each second stretching out painfully long.

What if Nicholas had already gotten to her? What if Evelyn had taken his side completely, or worse - what if she was inside with him right now, and he’d spun his lies so tight that Erica’s words would no longer matter?

She knocks again, louder this time. “Evie, please. It’s important.”

Finally, there’s the faint sound of movement from inside. The lock clicks, and the door opens a few inches. Evelyn stands there, her face pale, her eyes tired. There’s a hesitancy in her expression, like she’s been battling her own thoughts since their conversation in the restaurant.

“Erica…” Evelyn’s voice is soft, unsure.

Erica takes a small step forward, her heart heavy with concern. “Evie, can I come in? I need to talk to you. It’s about Nicholas.” She lowers her voice. “You’re in danger, and I can prove it.”

Evelyn’s hand tightens on the door, her gaze flicking over Erica’s shoulder to Steve and Antonia. There’s a flicker of fear in her eyes, a shadow of doubt that Nicholas had planted, no doubt. But something else lingers there, too—an ember of trust that Erica hopes hasn’t been completely extinguished.

“Please.” Erica adds softly. “Just hear me out.”

For what feels like an eternity, Evelyn doesn’t move, her grip on the door firm. Erica holds her breath, her stomach in knots, knowing this moment could decide everything.

Then, with a slow, weary sigh, Evelyn opens the door wider. “Come in.”

Relief floods through Erica, but it’s mixed with tension. They’ve cleared one hurdle, but the real battle is still ahead.




“Evie, these are Steve and Antonia. You might’ve seen them aboard and on the excursion.” Erica explains, her voice soft but steady, gesturing to her companions. Steve gives a small nod, while Antonia offers a tentative smile.

Evelyn’s gaze drifts toward them briefly, her expression distant, as if she’s already preparing herself for more bad news. The weight of the past few days seems to be pressing down on her all at once.

Erica, feeling the gravity of the moment, takes a deep breath and pulls out her phone. She places it gently on the coffee table between them, sliding it toward Evelyn. The screen lights up, displaying the mugshots once more. The harsh light of the photos contrasts sharply with the warmth of the suite around them, making the revelation all the more stark.

“These,” Erica begins, her voice catching slightly, “these are their real faces. Frank Culver and Josephine Silva. They’ve been scamming wealthy people - especially widows, like you, Evie - for years.”

Evelyn doesn’t flinch, but her hands, resting limply in her lap, seem to clench ever so slightly. Her eyes, dulled by exhaustion, flick down to the screen. Her breath hitches, a small sound of disbelief escaping her, but she says nothing. She just stares.

“They’ve been in prison, Evie.” Erica continues, her voice more urgent now. She leans forward, her eyes never leaving her friend’s. “If you don’t believe me, we can call the police in Chicago right now. They’ll confirm everything. You can verify it all.”

There’s a moment of crushing silence. Evelyn looks down at the images, her face crumpling, not in shock but in a weary, resigned sorrow. Her shoulders slump as if the last of her strength is draining away, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.

Erica can’t hold back any longer. “They cornered me two decks below.” she admits, her voice breaking slightly as the adrenaline of the earlier encounter resurfaces. “They threatened me, Evie. Threatened to throw me overboard if I didn’t stop interfering. If Steve and Antonia hadn’t shown up when they did…”

Antonia steps forward, her voice gentle but firm. “She’s telling the truth, Evelyn. It looked like they were about to get violent.”

Evelyn’s eyes close for a long moment, her lips parting as if to speak, but no words come. When she finally opens her eyes again, they’re filled with a sorrow so deep it almost breaks Erica’s heart.

The older woman looks so tired, so utterly defeated. Her elegant composure, once so solid, now seems fragile, hanging by a thread. The sparkle of her engagement ring catches the light, a cruel reminder of the love she thought she’d found. Her gaze drops to the ring, and she twists it slowly on her finger, as though the weight of it has become too much to bear.

“I had hoped…” Evelyn whispers, barely audible. “I had hoped that maybe, finally…” Her voice trails off, and she doesn’t finish the thought. She doesn’t have to. It’s clear in her eyes - the heartbreak, the disappointment. She had dared to dream of love again, dared to trust, and now that dream has been shattered.

The sight of Evelyn’s quiet devastation feels like a punch to Erica’s gut. Slowly, carefully, she steps forward and kneels beside her, the room thick with a sadness she wishes she could banish. “I’m so sorry, Evie.” Erica says softly, her own eyes misting with unshed tears. She reaches out, her movements tentative, as if unsure how to comfort her friend in this moment.

Her arms wrap around Evelyn gently, pulling her into a tender embrace. For a second, Evelyn remains stiff, almost unresponsive, but then she leans into Erica’s warmth, her forehead resting on Erica’s shoulder as her breath shudders.

“I just couldn’t let them hurt you.” Erica whispers, her voice thick with emotion. “I couldn’t stand by and watch.”

Evelyn’s body shakes slightly, not with sobs but with the deep, silent weight of her sorrow. Then, she pulls back ever so slightly, wiping at her eyes with trembling fingers. “It’s alright.” she says, her voice fragile but filled with a calm acceptance. “If it’s too good to be true…” She pauses, her gaze distant and sad. “It usually is.”

Her words hang in the air like a final note in a tragic symphony, echoing in the silence between them.

Erica’s heart aches for her. She wishes she could say something – anything - to make it better, to take away the pain. But there’s nothing she can say that will erase the betrayal Evelyn feels, the deep hurt of realizing that the love she thought she had found was nothing more than a lie.

They sit together for a long moment, the air heavy with grief, while Steve and Antonia stand by, silent witnesses to the heartbreaking scene. The walls of the luxurious suite, once a space of comfort and joy, now feel stifling, filled with the weight of shattered dreams.

Finally, Evelyn takes a deep breath, straightening in her chair. There’s a strength in her now, fragile but growing, as if the realization of the truth is giving her back some of her power. She glances at the phone still sitting on the table, the mugshots glaring up at her, and for the first time, she meets Erica’s gaze with clear, determined eyes.

“What do we do now?” Evelyn asks, her voice steady but laced with quiet resolve. “How do we stop them?”

Erica takes a breath, collecting herself, as she pulls away from the emotional embrace. There’s still something she needs to know - something that could change everything.

“Evie,” she begins carefully, her voice steady but urgent. “Has Nicholas – Frank - did he ever ask for access to any of your accounts? Any passwords, cards, anything like that?”

Evelyn’s eyes widen slightly, and a flicker of uncertainty crosses her face. “Well, no…not directly. But he’s been helping me manage my investments. He said he’d get better returns for me, and I…I trusted him.”

Erica feels a sharp pang of alarm. “Did you sign anything? Give him authority over your finances?”

Evelyn shakes her head slowly, her expression pained. “No, not like that. But…he’s been advising me, and I’ve made a few transfers based on what he suggested. Large ones, too. I didn’t think to question it. I thought…I thought it was safe.”

“Alright.” Erica says, her mind racing through the next steps. “That’s good. As long as he doesn’t have direct access, we can act fast.”

“What do I do?” Evelyn asks, her voice fragile but determined, her fingers twisting the engagement ring on her hand.

Erica pulls out her phone, opening the notes app. “We’re going to make sure he doesn’t get anywhere near your accounts. I need you to call your bank immediately and ask them to flag all transactions. If they need it in writing, we can send a fax right away. No one but you should be able to move any money, effective immediately.”

Evelyn nods, her tired eyes filled with trust in Erica’s steady resolve. “I’ll do it now.” she says quietly, her voice trembling but gaining strength.

Steve and Antonia exchange glances, sensing the urgency of the situation. Steve, always practical, leans forward. “If he’s been giving you financial advice, Evelyn, that means he was setting you up to funnel money into something - probably something that would disappear as soon as he did.”

Antonia chimes in, her voice gentle but sharp with awareness. “It’s good you caught this in time. Those people - they’ll drain you dry if you let them.”

Erica watches Evelyn dial her bank’s number with shaking hands, but she doesn’t leave her side. She knows the danger isn’t just in the emotional betrayal, but in the cold, calculated theft of Evelyn’s financial security. Nicholas - Frank - was playing a long game, and he’d almost won.

While waiting on hold, Evelyn glances at Erica, her expression mixed with regret and confusion. “How could I have been so blind?” she whispers, her voice breaking. “He seemed so…genuine. He talked about our future, about traveling, about everything I wanted to hear. I wanted to believe it.”

Erica feels her heart twist. “Evie, it’s not your fault. He’s a professional at this. He knows exactly what to say, how to get someone to trust him. That’s what con artists do - they prey on people’s hopes and dreams.”

Evelyn nods, though the sadness in her eyes doesn’t fade. “And I fell for it.”


As they wait for the bank to pick up, Erica’s mind races. “What had really happened?”
In its simplest form, yes, a man had faked his love for an older woman. But it was deeper than that.

Frank Culver and Josephine Silva aren’t just opportunists - they are predators. They didn’t just steal money; they stole trust, intimacy, hope. For Evelyn, it wasn’t about the money at all. It was about the promise of love, companionship, of having someone by her side again after so much time spent alone.

Frank had crafted a perfect illusion - a charming, attentive partner, eager to fill the void left by loss and loneliness. He had wormed his way into Evelyn’s heart, and through her heart, into her life. It wasn’t just financial theft, it was emotional theft. He had made her believe in a future that was never real.

Evelyn gets through to the bank, and Erica watches her speak, taking control of her finances once more, making sure that no money can move without her express approval. But Erica knows that the real healing will take far longer than stopping a few transactions. Evelyn will have to rebuild her sense of trust, her confidence, and most of all, her belief in herself.

When Evelyn finally hangs up the phone, there’s a long pause. The financial crisis may have been averted, but the emotional wreckage remains. Evelyn’s shoulders slump slightly, the toll of the past days weighing on her.

“Thank you.” Evelyn says softly, her voice filled with a mixture of gratitude and sadness. “For everything.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Evie.” Erica says, her voice gentle. “We’re not done yet. We’ll make sure he can’t hurt you any more.”

But as the words leave her mouth, Erica feels the deeper truth. Evelyn isn’t just another victim of financial fraud. She’s a woman who gave her heart and soul to a lie. And no amount of police reports or bank freezes can make up for that, but after ensuring Evelyn’s finances are locked down, Erica knows they can’t stop here. Nicholas and Valerie - no, Frank and Josephine - are still out there, and they won’t just let this go. They’re too calculated, too seasoned at this game. The threats against her earlier proved that.

“We need to go to the captain.” Erica says, breaking the silence that has settled over the room.

Evelyn glances at her with weary eyes. “Do you think he can do anything? We’re on a ship in the middle of the ocean.”

“Exactly.” Erica replies. “Which means he’s the highest authority right now. If Nicholas and Valerie decide to make another move - whether it’s against you or me - the captain needs to know.”

Steve nods, looking determined. “We’ll come with you. No fear.” Antonia steps beside him, a grim look of determination on her face. This is not what she had expected to happen when Steve said he'd introduce her to his friend Erica, but she won't leave this heartbroken widow alone in her most desperate hour.
“Of course, we'll help.” she says as she looks at Evelyn, her voice soft and compassionate.

As the group makes their way toward the bridge, the quiet hum of the ship underfoot, Erica’s thoughts race. She’s faced dangerous men before, but these two are different. Nicholas has the charm of a practiced manipulator, and Valerie is the predator in the background, always watching for the right moment to strike. They aren’t the type to back down, and now that Erica has exposed them, they might be more dangerous than ever.

When they arrive at the captain’s office, the crewman at the door listens to Erica’s request to see the Captain. He needs to take only one look at Erica’s determined expression and then leads them in without question. Captain Daladier, the embodiment of a salty sea dog, tall with a salt-and-pepper beard and the steady presence of someone used to handling crises, looks up from his desk.

“What can I help you with?” he asks, his voice calm but authoritative.

Erica steps forward, her heart still pounding with the gravity of what she’s about to say. “Captain, we have a serious situation on board. Two of your passengers - using the names Nicholas Carlisle and Valerie Snyder - are actually convicted criminals, Frank Culver and Josephine Silva. They’re con artists, and they’ve been preying on wealthy passengers like Evelyn here.” She gestures to her friend, whose face is pale with exhaustion but set with determination.

The captain raises an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “Go on, please.”

“They’ve been advising Evelyn on her finances under false pretenses. I confronted them earlier tonight, and they threatened me - said people can disappear at sea. If it weren’t for my friends arriving when they did, things could’ve gotten ugly.”
This is very brief, but can be explained later in more detail, Erica thinks.

The captain’s expression darkens. “Threatening another passenger? That’s serious. Not that I’d doubt what you say, but do you have any proof of their criminal activities?”

Erica nods, pulling out her phone. “I have their mugshots. Their real names, criminal records, everything. And if you don’t believe me, you can contact the police in Chicago. They’ll confirm everything.”

The captain takes the phone, scrolling through the images. His lips press into a thin line as he absorbs the information.

“I’ll need to verify this with the authorities.” he says, his tone measured, but Erica can see the wheels turning in his mind as he writes down the necessary information for his investigations on his notepad. “If what you’re saying checks out, we’ll take immediate action. I’ll have security keep an eye on them, and if necessary, we can detain them until we get back to Miami.”
He hands Erica his business card. “Please, forward those pictures to my email.” he requests. “I also need to inform my cruise line.”

Evelyn, still shaken but finding her voice, speaks up. “Captain, I don’t know what else they’re planning, but based on what we know, there could be more people at risk on this ship. You need to stop them before they do any more damage.”

The captain nods. “I’ll alert my security team. We’ll search for any other victims and make sure these two can’t leave the ship without facing justice. When we return to Miami, we will hand them over to the authorities for processing.”

Erica feels a rush of relief, but it’s tempered by the knowledge that they’re not out of the woods yet. Nicholas and Valerie are dangerous, and now that they know Erica is onto them, they won’t go down without a fight.

“Thank you, Captain.” she says, her voice firm. “Just make sure they can’t hurt anyone else.”

The captain stands, his face set in a determined expression. “Don’t worry. They won’t get away with this. I’ll get back to you later.”

As Erica, Steve, Antonia, and Evelyn leave the office, Erica feels a small spark of hope. The wheels are in motion. But as they walk back through the ship’s dimly lit halls, her instincts tell her this isn’t over. People like Nicholas and Valerie don’t just give up.

After hearing Erica’s account and viewing the mugshots, Captain Daladier wastes no time. His face is calm, but his mind is racing. He picks up his phone and dials an international line directly to the Chicago Police Department. There is no way he’s going to let criminals roam his ship.

The line clicks as a detective answers.

“This is Captain Daladier of the “Sea Dream” sailing for World Cruises Line. I’m reaching out regarding two individuals aboard our ship suspected of fraud and possibly other crimes. I’ve received evidence from a passenger that they’ve been involved in multiple scams, and I need to verify their criminal records... their names are Frank Culver and Josephine Silva. I have mugshots I can send you right away…”

As he waits, the silence in his office feels heavy. Daladier leans back in his chair and reaches for a tin of chewing tobacco putting a dip into his mouth.
Every second feels like it stretches for an eternity while the detective on the other end searches through their database and compares Daladier’s info with theirs.

Finally, the voice on the other end comes back, confirming Erica’s suspicions. “Yes, those names and mugshots match known criminals wanted for fraud across several states. They’ve targeted elderly victims, swindling them out of large sums of money.”

The captain exhales slowly, knowing the weight of the situation. “Thank you for the confirmation, detective. We’ll ensure they are detained until the authorities can meet us upon our return to Miami.”

With the call complete, the captain sets the phone down and takes a deep breath before turning to his security chief, a stocky man named Daniels.


“Daniels, we’ve got a situation.” the captain says, standing and moving to the large map of the ship behind him. “I want passengers Frank Culver and Josephine Silva apprehended. They are travelling under the names Nicholas Carlisle and Valerie Snyder. They’re con artists, and they’re running a scheme on board. Do this quietly, please. I don’t want unrest among the passengers, but make sure they don’t have time to slip away.”

Daniels nods, his expression darkening as he quickly absorbs the gravity of the order. “We’ll take care of it, skipper.”

Daniels immediately mobilizes the security team. Four guards are dispatched to sweep the ship’s common areas, moving through the bars, lounges, and decks as discreetly as possible, eyes scanning for any sign of Frank or Josephine. Their job is to make sure the con artists don’t escape into the crowd. Meanwhile another team is sent to check Josephine’s cabin while Daniels and four other guards head straight for Frank's cabin. The team moves with purpose, their movements deliberate and controlled, but there’s a quiet urgency in the way they stride down the corridors. As professionals they know that time is of the essence.

Well, it seems, Nicolas and Valerie are in deep Waters. Erica bested them at least it seems that way. For now.

Dear @Caesar73 , let's see what these two predators are up to, shall we?

Inside his cabin, Frank is sitting hunched over his laptop, frantically typing. His eyes flicker between the screen and the clock. He’s trying multiple times to log into Evelyn’s accounts, his fingers shaking as he enters various passwords to make some big transfers.

But each time, the system rejects him.
His access has been cut off.

Frank curses under his breath, his face contorting in frustration. He slams the keyboard, but it doesn’t help. “Damn it!” he mutters, the sharp edge of panic creeping into his voice. He wipes sweat from his brow, leaning back in his chair, breathing hard. He knows what this means - Evelyn’s caught on, or worse, she’s been tipped off – by Erica.

“Jo, we need to move.” Frank finally says, his voice thick with fear. “She’s blocked me out of the accounts. We need to grab whatever cash we can and get the hell off this boat.”

Josephine, who’s been sitting on the bed watching Frank, feels her stomach drop at his words. Her carefully crafted mask of calm starts to crumble. “What do you mean blocked?” she says, her voice rising in panic. “You told me you had control over her finances, Frank! We need that money!”

Frank doesn’t respond, his mind racing. He’s always been the cool one, the smooth talker, the one with a plan. But right now, his confidence is slipping. “They’ve figured it out, Jo. I can’t get in.”

Josephine’s face drains of color. For the first time, the reality of their situation hits her like a freight train. For the first time they are trapped on a ship, their whole plan unraveling around them, and she knows it’s only a matter of time before they’re caught.

Just then, the door to their cabin clicks. It’s subtle, but the unmistakable sound of a master keycard sliding through the lock causes both of them to freeze.

Frank’s blood runs cold. His eyes dart to Josephine. “That’s them.” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “They’re here.”

The door swings open, and Daniels, along with four guards, step into the room, their presence filling the small space with the authority of the Law. The air in the cabin feels thick with impending doom.

“Mr. Culver, move away from the computer.” Daniels says in a tone that brooks no argument.

Josephine’s survival instincts kick in. She knows she maybe has one last chance to save herself – by throwing Frank under the bus.
Without thinking, she propels herself off the bed, practiced tears already welling up in her eyes.

“Help me!” she cries out, lunging toward Daniels and clutching his arm. “Please, you have to believe me! He’s been forcing me to help him! I didn’t know what he was really doing until it was too late!”

Her voice cracks with emotion, a perfectly rehearsed performance. “He’s dangerous! He said he’d hurt me if I didn’t go along with it.” Her eyes are wide, filled with fear as she clings to Daniels, as though begging for salvation.

For a split second, Daniels regards her with a neutral gaze. As a former Detroit police officer he’s seen this kind of act before - a desperate con artist trying to wriggle out of responsibility by playing the victim. He doesn’t let his guard down.

“You can tell your side of the story to the police when we get back to Miami.” Daniels says calmly, gently pulling Josephine away from him but keeping his grip firm. “But you’re both coming with us now.”

Josephine’s expression shifts just for a second, the fear giving way to frustration as she realizes her performance hasn’t worked.

Frank, watching this unfold, can feel the walls closing in. His heart is pounding in his chest, the adrenaline making him feel like he’s going to explode. He stands up slowly, raising his hands in a mock surrender, though his eyes are filled with hatred.

“You’re making a big mistake.” Frank hisses, his voice low and menacing. “I didn’t do anything. You’ve got nothing on me.”

But the security guards don’t flinch. Two of them move forward and grab Frank’s arms, pulling them behind his back to handcuff him. The cold metal snaps shut around his wrists, and the last vestiges of his control slip away.

“I’m warning you!” Frank says, but the tremor in his voice betrays his fear. “You’ll regret this. You’ll hear from my lawyer!”

Daniels doesn’t respond to Frank’s empty threats. He signals to his team to secure Frank’s laptop as evidence and to seal off the cabin, then turns back to Josephine, who’s still pleading, her voice growing weaker with each word.

“Please... I didn’t know...” Josephine whispers, her desperation palpable.

Daniels merely shakes his head. “Certainly, Miss Silva. Let’s go.”

As Frank and Josephine are escorted out of the cabin, their scheme finally unraveled, the weight of their failure crashes down on them. Frank, the once-cocky mastermind, is reduced to a man grasping at straws, while Josephine’s crocodile tears dry up as she realizes there’s no way out this time.




The morning sunlight filters through the blinds of the Captain’s office as Erica and Evelyn sit in the stately room adjacent to the bridge, waiting for the news. The air feels lighter than it had in days, yet there's still a tension lingering between them. Evelyn’s face is pale, etched with the exhaustion of emotional turmoil, but there's a spark of resilience in her eyes.

The Captain enters, a calm authority radiating from him. He wastes no time, his voice steady. “After you informed me yesterday evening, I’ve been in touch with the Chicago PD, and they’ve confirmed their identities. Frank Culver and Josephine Silva have been apprehended by our security staff and are locked in two separate secure cabins under guard. I spoke to our Line’s legal office and am happy to say that - as far as Dream Cruise Line is concerned - the wheels are already in motion.”

Erica feels a wave of relief wash over her, but her focus shifts immediately to Evelyn, who is staring down at her hands.

She thanks the captain for his swift action and lays a protective arm around Evelyn as they leave the office.

“Evie, you should call your lawyer. Make sure they handle everything from here on out, especially regarding the transactions Nicholas…Frank…advised you to make from your accounts.”

Evelyn nods slowly, still absorbing the reality. “I will. He’s based in Aspen and I trust him. He’s been with me for decades.” She pauses, blinking back tears. “I just can’t believe I let it get this far…that I doubted you, even for a second.”

Erica’s expression softens, and she places a hand on Evelyn’s. “You were in love, Evie. That’s not something to be ashamed of. People like them are professionals at deceiving and exploiting others.”


Together they walk along the promenade deck, surrounded by the bustle of other passengers enjoying the sunshine, chatting, and leaning against the railings to take in the view. But for Erica and Evelyn, it feels as if they’re in their own world - a bubble separate from the rest of the ship. The noise and movement around them are muted, their attention focused entirely on the rolling sea ahead and the quiet storm of emotions within.

Evelyn’s pace slows as they near the edge of the deck. The vast blue ocean stretches out endlessly before them, and the wind carries with it the scent of salt and freedom. The sounds of laughter and chatter seem distant now, barely registering as Evelyn comes to a stop by the railing. Her hands grip the cool metal, her knuckles white against the bright sun. She stares out at the horizon, her silence heavy with the weight of everything that has happened.

Erica stands beside her, sensing the gravity of the moment but saying nothing. She watches as Evelyn reaches into her pocket, her movements deliberate and slow, as she pulls out the engagement ring – the one Frank had bought with Evie’s own money. The diamond catches the sunlight, glinting like a fragment of the life she had imagined - now shattered.

Evelyn’s fingers tremble as she holds the ring between her fingers, lifting it slightly. Around them, people continue their strolls along the promenade, oblivious to the significance of what’s happening in this small, isolated moment. A mother laughs with her child; a couple leans in close for a selfie. But here, beside the ocean, time seems to stand still for Evelyn and Erica.

“I really believed him.” Evelyn whispers, her voice barely audible above the wind. “I believed every word, even when I knew deep down that something was wrong.”

Erica watches her, her heart heavy with empathy. She can see the battle raging in Evelyn’s eyes - the hurt, the disbelief, the self-recrimination. She remembers that look from before, in the Captain’s office, when Evelyn had been forced to confront the truth about Nicholas - or rather, Frank. But out here, with the ocean stretched endlessly before them, there’s something freeing about the open space.

“You’re not to blame, Evelyn.” Erica says softly. “People like him - con artists - they prey on hope and trust. They know exactly how to exploit someone’s kindness, their need to believe in something good. But that doesn’t mean you were wrong for trusting him. He was wrong for betraying you.”

Evelyn’s eyes glisten as she looks down at the ring. “I thought he was my future.” she says, her voice raw with emotion. “I thought I could finally be happy again.”

Erica steps closer, her presence grounding Evelyn. “You still can be.” she says, her voice quiet but firm. “With a truly good man somewhere out there.”

With a deep, trembling breath, Evelyn holds the ring over the edge of the ship. The noise of the other passengers fades further into the background, the clinking glasses and distant laughter becoming nothing more than whispers as Evelyn closes her eyes for a moment. The wind tugs at her hair, the sun warm on her face and then, she lets go.

The ring falls in a graceful arc, glittering one last time in the sunlight before disappearing into the deep blue. For a moment, it feels as though the world has stopped, the sound of the waves washing against the hull the only thing that exists as the ring is swallowed by the sea.

Evelyn watches it disappear, her face crumpling as the reality of the loss sinks in. She presses a hand to her mouth, her body trembling with the force of her grief. Erica is there, her arm around Evelyn’s shoulders, holding her steady as tears well up in her friend’s eyes. And still, they’re in their own bubble, the rest of the world moving on around them, unaware of the heartache that has just been set free into the waves.

But slowly, Evelyn straightens. She wipes at her eyes, taking in a deep breath, and when she looks at Erica, there’s something different in her gaze - a quiet strength, fragile but real.

“I’m done being the victim.” Evelyn says softly, but with conviction. “I won’t let him control how I feel anymore.”

Erica smiles, her pride in Evelyn clear. “You’re stronger than you think.”

That evening, the atmosphere in Evelyn’s VIP suite is markedly different. The tension from before has been replaced by a sense of peace, though there’s still an undercurrent of melancholy in Evelyn’s eyes. She’s dressed simply and plain and the sparkle in her demeanor is missing, but the quiet strength Erica has seen rise within her friend is still there.

Steve, Antonia, and Erica sit around the elegantly set dining table, while Evelyn pours everyone a glass of champagne. As the golden bubbles rise in their glasses, Steve leans closer to Antonia, his hand resting on hers. Their smiles are soft and genuine, the shared experience having brought them closer than they could imagine just a day ago.

“I have to say.” Steve begins, glancing at Erica, “I never figured this trip would turn out the way it did. But I’m glad, in the end, things are looking up.”

Antonia nods, her dark eyes full of warmth. “Aren’t we all?” she says softly as she gives Steve’s big hand a squeeze.

Evelyn smiles softly, though the pain is still there. “Thank you all for not giving up on me. After everything, I’ve come to realize there are still good people in this world.” She looks directly at Erica, the gratitude in her gaze clear. “You restored my faith in that.”

As they raise their glasses, there’s an unspoken understanding between them, but Evelyn’s toast - “To new beginnings” - means something different for each of them.

For Evelyn, it represents hope. Despite the deceit and the heartbreak she’s endured, there’s a quiet belief that not everyone is out to take advantage of her. There were people - Erica, Steve and Antonia - who stood by her, who didn’t let her fall into the hands of a predator. The thought flickers in her mind: maybe, just maybe, there is still someone out there who will love her for who she is, not for her money.

For Erica, the toast carries a deeper, personal meaning. She came on this cruise searching for inner peace, hoping to close the chapter on a traumatic period in her life - when Tony Maze’s bullet scarred her physically and more than that, emotionally. Her father’s words ring in her ears. They are the core of her moral compass. It’s from the good and the painful experiences that she draws her strength - the strength to do the right thing, even when it would be easier not to.

For Steve, the toast is a reflection of something simpler but no less significant. In Antonia, he’s found someone who sees him for who he truly is. Not just the rough edges, the hardworking exterior, but the man beneath it all - the man who has always wanted to be seen as more than just a guy pouring concrete or putting a roof on a house. Antonia saw the diamond past the unpolished surface and it’s something he had only hoped to find on this trip - a new beginning, indeed.

“To new beginnings!” they echo, each of them carrying their own hopes, lessons, and gratitude in those simple words.

Steve smiles, turning to Antonia. “By the way, we found out that we don’t live too far from each other. Seems like this little cruise might not be the last time we see each other after all.”

Erica grins, feeling a surge of happiness for her friend. “I told you so.” she teases lightly, elbowing Steve in the side, as she watches Steve and Antonia holding hands, trading sweet glances.



Later that night, Erica returns to her suite. The quiet hum of the ship, the gentle rocking beneath her feet, feels soothing now, almost like a lullaby after days of tension. She slips off her sandals and dress, replacing them with the cool touch of her black silk kimono, which drapes against her skin like a breeze from the sea. The weight of everything that had happened feels lighter, as if the storm has finally passed.

She picks up her phone and sends a quick message to John Dance, updating him on the outcome of their little adventure. Almost immediately, her phone buzzes again - a photo from Claire of Spot and Tiger, her kittens, curled up contentedly on her leather couch back home. Erica smiles at the sight, her heart swelling with a warmth she hasn’t felt in days.

“Home”. The thought lingers. It’ll be good to return soon, but for the next few days, with Frank and Josephine locked away, she can finally relax. Maybe now, she’ll enjoy the rest of the cruise, without that dark cloud hovering over her. Maybe she’ll even finish “Pride and Prejudice”...

But even if she doesn’t, one thing has come out of this trip. Now she knows, beyond any doubt, that looking the other way when someone needs help will never be in her nature. She couldn’t have lived with herself if she had.

Her fingers graze the Rolex on her wrist, her father’s gift and a constant reminder of his words: “Stand for something or fall for anything”.

Slipping beneath the duvet, the rhythmic sound of the sea beyond the terrace lulls her into calm. The tension in her body unwinds, her mind quiets. She knows she’ll sleep soundly tonight, content in the knowledge that, when it mattered most, she stood up for what was right. And for now, that is enough.

With a small, contented smile, she closes her eyes, letting the rhythm of the ocean carry her into a well-deserved rest.

Tomorrow is, indeed, a new beginning.



The End


Dear readers,
I hope you enjoyed "Erica Sinclair - Sea Dream".
You won't have to wait long for her next adventure to begin.
Erica will be back in "The Velvet Room".
If you're a litle impatient, visit my page over at Wattpad to read ahead: https://www.wattpad.com/user/JS_writing

Thanks for staying with me.

Jenny

very nice read, congratulations

Dear @sweetvillain , thank you for the kind words.
I hope you'll enjoy my recent story "The Velvet Room" just as much.
You'll find it here: viewtopic.php?t=22982

This evening i read, thank you for your post, you are very kind

Dear @sweetvillain , it's my pleasure.

Looking forward to Erica´s next Adventure! She is a character with so much Potential yet to be discovered!

Dear @Caesar73 , Erica is already back. You'll find her new adventure "The Velvet Room" here: viewtopic.php?t=22982
The story possibly is the darkest yet. Hope you'll enjoy it.

Wow.
"Sea Dream" got over 10.000 views on this board.
I never thought this could happen.
Thank you very much, dear readers.
You really humble me, but this also spurs me on in my endeavours of bringing you more exciting adventures of Erica Sinclair.

Again, thank your for your interest in my stories.

Been in hospital for a couple of weeks, i been quite a mess, with no access to this magnificent site or your great stories. Not been ignoring you or any of the other superb contributors here. Great to be back.