Chapter 11 - THE HONEYMOON VIDEO
Daniel held me under the helicopter spotlight.
To anyone watching from a distance, we looked like terrified newlyweds caught in a crisis.
He was good at appearances.
That was his real weapon.
Not guns.
Not bats.
Believability.
He kissed my temple.
“Wave.”
I did.
Then I quietly drove my heel down onto his foot.
Daniel flinched.
The syringe shifted.
I trapped his wrist.
He slammed his forehead into mine.
Pain exploded behind my eyes.
We struggled near the railing.
The syringe hit the deck and rolled away.
Daniel punched me.
I stumbled.
He aimed the pistol.
“Enough!”
A voice came over the ship speakers.
Not the captain.
Rebecca.
“Daniel Mercer, you should look at the big screen.”
The giant outdoor movie screen flickered on.
Our wedding appeared.
Daniel smiling.
Me walking down the aisle.
Then the video changed.
Security footage.
Daniel purchasing the baseball bat.
Another clip.
Daniel entering the insurance broker’s office.
Another.
Audio recordings.
His voice.
“If she dies after the trust activates, everything transfers through the spouse clause.”
Daniel stared at the screen.
Rebecca had found the evidence drive and broadcast it shipwide.
Passengers stepped onto balconies despite lockdown orders.
Hundreds of phones pointed toward us.
Daniel could no longer control the story.
“You stupid—”
He ran toward the screen controls.
I tackled him.
The pistol slid across the wet deck.
We hit the ground.
Daniel clawed for my throat.
“You were supposed to be easy!”
I drove my knee into his stomach.
“That was your first mistake.”
He rolled away.
Then his hand found the gun.
He raised it.
A shot cracked.
Daniel froze.
His pistol fell.
Blood spread across his shoulder.
Hale stood behind him holding his weapon.
“It’s over.”
Daniel laughed through the pain.
“No.”
He looked toward the ocean.
Then at me.
“You still haven’t found Nicole.”
My stomach dropped.
Hale stepped closer.
“What did you say?”
Daniel smiled.
“Nicole Avery is alive.”
Rebecca stared at him.
“Where?”
May you like
Daniel’s smile became monstrous.
“On this ship.”
