Chapter 32 - The Anchorage at Navagio
We dropped anchor in the secluded, towering cove of Navagio under a canopy of stars that felt close enough to touch. Dante joined me on deck, his expression hard as obsidian as I handed him the burner phone. He didn’t look surprised; instead, a grim, calculated light flickered in his eyes. "It’s Marcus Vance," Dante said quietly, his voice carrying over the gentle lapping of waves against the hull. "The shipping magnate who lost three billion when we shorted his logistics fleet last quarter. He thinks you're my weak spot, Eleanor." I laughed softly, setting my wine glass down and crossing my arms. Weak spot? They had no idea what I had survived to get here. Julian’s betrayal had been my crucible, burning away every ounce of naivety I had ever possessed. "If Marcus wants a war on the open water," I whispered, turning to face Dante with a predatory smile, "we’ll give him an ocean of fire." Within minutes, the yacht's satellite communication array hummed to life. We weren't just passengers on a pleasure cruise anymore; we were a moving fortress, and our pursuers were about to walk right into our trap.
