The rain had subsided, leaving the ocean eerily calm as Isla and Amara floated in the dinghy. The once-violent waves now rippled gently, reflecting the pale moonlight. Isla’s arms trembled as she rowed, her eyes darting back to the distant ship where Dante was still fighting. Her chest tightened with worry, every fiber of her being begging her to go back.
“Mama, will Daddy be okay?” Amara asked, her small voice breaking the heavy silence.
Isla forced a smile, her throat tight. “Daddy is strong, sweetheart. He’ll be okay. He’ll come find us soon.”
Amara nodded, though her wide eyes betrayed her fear. She curled into Isla’s lap, seeking the comfort of her mother’s embrace.
Hours passed as Isla rowed aimlessly, her arms aching with every stroke. She didn’t know where she was going, only that she had to get as far away from Vincent as possible. The salty air stung her lungs, and exhaustion clawed at her resolve.
Just as despair began to creep in, a faint light appeared on the horizon. Isla’s heart leapt at the sight. It wasn’t much-perhaps a small fishing boat or a coastal beacon-but it was hope.
“Hold on, Amara,” Isla murmured. “We’re going to be okay.”
—
Back on the ship, Dante was locked in a brutal fight with Vincent. Blood dripped from a cut above his eye, and his knuckles ached from the force of his punches. The deck was littered with Vincent’s unconscious men, but the storm within Dante was far from over.
Vincent staggered to his feet, wiping blood from his lip. “You’ve always been predictable, Dante,” he sneered. “Always rushing in, thinking you can save the day.”
“And you’ve always been a coward,” Dante shot back, his voice cold and steady. “Using others to fight your battles.”
Vincent lunged at him, but Dante sidestepped easily, delivering a swift kick to Vincent’s ribs. The man crumpled to the ground, gasping for air.
“This ends here,” Dante said, standing over him.
Vincent coughed, his laughter raspy and bitter. “You think killing me will solve everything? I’m just a piece of a much bigger game.”
Dante’s jaw tightened. “Then I’ll destroy the whole board.”
Before Vincent could respond, Dante delivered a final blow, knocking him unconscious. Breathing heavily, Dante glanced around the wrecked deck. The storm had scattered the crew, and the ship now drifted aimlessly.
His first thought was Isla and Amara. Were they safe? Had they gotten far enough away?
Without wasting another second, Dante commandeered a small motorboat attached to the ship. He started the engine, his heart pounding as he followed the faint trail of the dinghy Isla had taken.
—
The light grew brighter as Isla approached it, revealing a small fishing vessel anchored in the water. Relief washed over her as she waved frantically, shouting for help.
“Over here!” she cried, her voice hoarse from the salty air.
A man appeared on the deck, his face etched with concern. “Are you okay?” he called out, lowering a rope ladder.
Isla nodded, clutching Amara tightly as she climbed aboard. Once on the deck, she collapsed to her knees, her body trembling with exhaustion and relief.
“Thank you,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face.
The fisherman knelt beside her, offering a blanket for Amara. “What happened? Are you lost?”
Isla hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. “We were… taken,” she said finally. “We escaped, but my husband is still out there.”
The man frowned, glancing at the horizon. “A storm like that… he must be a strong man to survive.”
“He is,” Isla said firmly, her voice filled with conviction. “He’ll come for us.”
—
Hours passed as the fishing boat made its way toward the nearest port. Isla kept a constant watch on the horizon, her heart aching with worry. Amara had fallen asleep in her lap, her small face peaceful despite the chaos they had endured.
Just as dawn broke, a faint hum reached Isla’s ears. She squinted, her heart skipping a beat as she recognized the shape of a motorboat speeding toward them.
“It’s him,” she whispered, her voice trembling with relief.
The fisherman turned, nodding as the boat drew closer. “Looks like your husband made it.”
Dante pulled alongside the fishing vessel, his face a mixture of relief and determination. “Isla! Amara!” he called out, his voice breaking with emotion.
Isla helped Amara to her feet, lifting her so Dante could take her first. The moment Amara was in his arms, Dante held her tightly, pressing kisses to her forehead.
“Daddy!” Amara squealed, her arms wrapping around his neck.
Dante turned to Isla, his eyes filled with gratitude and something deeper. “Are you okay?”
Isla nodded, her lip trembling as she climbed into the motorboat. The moment her feet touched the deck, Dante pulled her into his arms, holding her as if he’d never let go.
“I thought I lost you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
“You didn’t,” Isla said, her arms tightening around him. “You found us.”
—
As they sped back toward the shore, Dante filled Isla in on what had happened. Vincent had been subdued and handed over to authorities, though Dante doubted he would stay behind bars for long.
“We’ll deal with him if he resurfaces,” Dante said, his tone resolute. “But right now, all that matters is you and Amara.”
Isla rested her head against his shoulder, exhaustion finally catching up with her. “I’m just glad we’re together.”
When they reached the shore, Dante carried Amara, who had fallen asleep again, while Isla leaned against him for support. A car waited to take them home, and the driver nodded respectfully as Dante helped Isla inside.
The drive back to the mansion was quiet, the tension of the past few days slowly ebbing away. Isla glanced at Dante, noting the weariness in his eyes. Despite everything, he had fought for them, protected them.
As they entered the mansion, Dante instructed the staff to prepare a warm bath and food for Isla and Amara. He placed Amara in her bed, brushing a gentle kiss across her forehead before returning to Isla.
“You should rest,” he said softly, cupping her cheek.
Isla shook her head, her eyes searching his. “Not without you.”
Dante’s gaze softened, and he led her to their room. For the first time in days, Isla felt safe. As she lay beside Dante, his arms wrapped around her protectively, she allowed herself to believe that they could weather any storm together.
For now, the danger was behind them, but Isla knew their story was far from over.