Chapter 2

Chloe' s words hung in the air, a monument to her spectacular selfishness. The crew stared at her, their faces a mixture of disbelief and disgust. The pirate speedboats were no longer distant specks, they were growing larger, their wakes cutting white scars into the blue water.

"His art?" the captain, a seasoned man named David, yelled back from the bridge, his voice strained. "Ma' am, with all due respect, we are about to be boarded by armed men! Your friend' s spray paint can wait!"

Chloe' s face flushed with anger. She let go of my arm and stomped toward the bridge.

"You don' t understand! It' s not just spray paint! It' s a commentary on the transient nature of existence! It' s vital! Alex is a true artist, and his vision is more important than a minor inconvenience!"

A minor inconvenience. The crew exchanged looks of pure contempt. They had worked for me for years, they had seen Chloe' s manipulative behavior, her entitlement, her complete disregard for anyone but herself and her pet artist. They had also seen my blind devotion, the way I' d catered to her every whim. They were relieved to see the new steel in my spine.

Tom, the young crewman, stepped forward.

"Mr. Evans, sir, we have to go. Please, give the order. We have families."

His voice was pleading, his eyes locked on mine. He was speaking for everyone on the ship. They looked to me, not Chloe. I was their employer, their protector. Last time, I failed them. This time, I wouldn't.

I gave Chloe a look devoid of any warmth.

"An artist, Chloe? The man who needs absolute silence to glue seashells onto a canvas? Let' s see how his delicate artistic temperament handles a real crisis."

I walked over to the ship' s radio and switched it to the channel for the handheld I' d given Alex.

"Alex, do you read me?"

His voice came back, laced with its usual arrogance.

"Liam? Finally. Tell Chloe I need another hour. The light is perfect, but the inspiration is a fickle muse..."

"Forget your muse, Alex," I cut him off, my voice flat. "There are three boatloads of pirates heading straight for this yacht. They' ll probably visit your island next. I suggest you pack up your paint cans and get ready for a swim."

There was a moment of dead silence on the other end. Then, the sound of a can clattering against rock. The cool, aloof artist vanished, replaced by a panicked child.

"Pirates? What are you talking about? Is this a joke?"

His voice was suddenly high-pitched, cracking with fear.

"Get me out of here! Right now! Forget the art! Forget everything, just come and get me! NOW!"

Chloe stood frozen, her mouth slightly open. The image of her brave, dedicated genius was shattering right before her eyes. She stared at the radio as if it had personally betrayed her. The sound of Alex' s shrieking was the first crack in the foundation of her world, and it was beautiful.