I saw my husband’s hand on another woman before I saw his face. / Chapter 49 / 50

Chapter 49 - The Port of Piraeus

Through the spray-lashed salon windows, a massive black silhouette loomed out of the fog—an unmarked commercial tugboat, running without navigation lights, intentionally clipping our port stabilizer.

From the deck of the interceptor, spotlight beams pierced the night, pinning the *Zephyr* in blinding white glare.

Helena Cassian had not left her fate in Richard’s hands.

"She's cutting us off before we reach territorial waters!" Julian shouted down the companionway. "Emily, get to the bridge! Take the helm!"

I sprinted up the stairs, taking the wheel while Julian chambered a round into his sidearm. "Can we outrun them?" I asked, gripping the polished wooden helm of my father’s boat.

"The stabilizer is damaged," Julian said, his eyes scanning the radar. "We can't outrun them in open water, but look at the GPS. We are two nautical miles from the outer perimeter of Piraeus harbor. The Hellenic naval base is on the eastern headland."

"Then we don't outrun them," I said, slamming both throttles forward to maximum power. "We run straight toward the sirens."

The *Zephyr* surged forward, her twin screws churning the sea into a frothing storm. The interceptor tug lunged again, trying to ram our starboard quarter, but I spun the wheel hard into the swell, skimming past the tug’s steel prow by less than ten feet. The sound of tearing metal shrieked through the night, but the *Zephyr* broke clear into the shipping lane.

Ahead, piercing the pre-dawn mist, the lighthouses of Piraeus blazed like welcoming torches.

Behind us, the blue and red flashing beacons of three Hellenic Coast Guard patrol boats tore across the horizon, surrounding the rogue tugboat in a tightening circle of naval steel.

Richard screamed curses from the salon below as the sirens multiplied, filling the dawn sky with the unmistakable sound of justice arriving.

Julian stepped up beside me at the helm, his hand resting gently over mine on the throttle. The first golden rays of sunlight were breaking over the hills of Attica, turning the Aegean Sea from pitch-black ink to brilliant, shimmering sapphire.