CHAPTER 83: NICK’S PLAN (1)

Nick’s POV

"The plan?" I exhaled—long and hard—like the weight of it was crushing my chest.

"The plan is..." I paused, dragging a hand through my hair, trying to sound calmer than I felt. "We retract the charges against Raymond. But only if he and his father formally withdraw the deal they made with you. No more payment demands. No more blackmail. No more marriage arrangements."

I glanced at her, but her face gave me nothing. Still, I pressed on.

"In exchange, your so-called debt would be considered settled—paid by the cost of today’s assault. Their reputation stays intact. Yours too. It’ll be like none of this ever happened. And most importantly..." I swallowed. This was the part that burned. "They can’t force you to marry into their family anymore."

I tried to sound clinical, detached. But my voice cracked anyway. "You’ll be free. No more debt. No more prenuptial obligations."

She was silent for a beat too long before she said quietly, "So... they won’t force me to marry Raymond anymore to acquire my company, huh?"

Her words were light—almost thoughtful—but they cut through me like a blade.

"Yes," I said, voice rough. "You won’t have to marry him... or me."

There. I said it.

Like ripping off a bandage over a fresh wound.

Silence wrapped around us like a storm cloud. I couldn’t hear anything except the rapid pounding of my heart and the sound of water lapping against the sides of the tub.

She sighed... once. Twice.

Each breath from her pulled a new thread of panic in me. Was she thinking about leaving? About walking away now that she had the freedom to?

I didn’t ask. I couldn’t. I wasn’t ready to hear her say no to staying.

So I kept pouring water over her skin, slowly, carefully... as if I could wash away the tension and dread rising between us.

But my mind wouldn’t shut up.

Was she regretting giving her virginity to me?

Was she wishing she never jumped off my ship in the first place?

Or was she thinking... maybe, just maybe... she could stay?

The silence was unbearable.

The waiting—fucking torture.

"I see..." she finally said.

But that was it.

No follow-up. No emotion. Just silence.

And it was deafening.

The tension in my chest thickened until I couldn’t take it anymore. "Maybe... I should give you space. Let you bathe alone. You’ll probably relax better without me here."

I hated saying it, but her silence was killing me slowly.

Then, her voice—soft, almost fragile—cut through the fog.

"Don’t go. This... this is already relaxing."

God, I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear those words until I did. A sliver of hope cracked through the dread.

She leaned her head back against my shoulder. I tightened my arm around her instinctively, grounding myself with the feel of her skin against mine.

"What if Raymond and his father don’t agree?" she asked. "What if they fight back and file a counter case against you or me instead?"

Smart. Always sharp. Her mind never rests—even in the bath.

"That’s a good point," I said, brushing my fingers down her arm. "But Oliver and I are confident they’ll take the bait."

She tilted her head slightly, curious. "And what makes you so sure?"

I paused, inhaling deeply before I answered.

"Because I’ve lived through this kind of scandal. I know what it does to a man and his family. When I became a suspect in your brother’s death, we had no solid evidence to clear my name or to prove that I am guilty... yet the world judged me anyway.

The media. Our friends. Even people in the maritime community turned their backs on us. The damage was brutal—and it wasn’t even proven."

I looked down at her, her eyes wide and locked on the water filling the tub.

"But Raymond?" I continued. "There’s actual evidence—undeniable, visual proof of what he did to you and the rest of us. The moment that video gets leaked, it’ll destroy him. And Jefferson Davis knows that. The man has more money than he can count—but what he values more than anything is his reputation. His image. His empire."

I traced slow circles on her thigh under the water, my voice low but deliberate. "The moment he realizes how much business and status he could lose over this, he’ll fold. Your debt will vanish like smoke. And so will their hold on you."

There was a beat of silence before she finally let out a breath and whispered, "Wow... That’s impressive."

I frowned, uncertain if I should take her words as a genuine compliment or subtle sarcasm.

"Impressive?" I echoed, watching her closely. "Is that a compliment or a smart-ass sarcasm?"

She smiled, playful and disarming. "Literally—as the word implies. You’re smart, strategic... and yeah, I’m impressed."

Before I could say anything, she turned around in the tub to face me—sudden, unpredictable, sending ripples of water between us. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity, her voice full of energy, almost teasing.

"So, tell me, Mr. Mastermind... Did you plan for Raymond to show up on the island? Or was that just something you anticipated?" Her tone was light, but the glint in her eyes was razor sharp. She was digging—and loving every second of it.

I raised a brow, caution creeping back into my chest. "If I tell you everything... promise me you’ll keep an open mind—and not snap at me right away?"

She instantly frowned, cocked an eyebrow, and crossed her arms over her chest—baring that stubborn streak of hers I both dreaded and loved.

"What? I don’t get angry right away!" she shot back, her voice rising.

I couldn’t help but laugh. "See? That’s exactly what I mean. You blow up without a warning."

She rolled her eyes, huffed, and then—just like that—grabbed my face and kissed me.

Not deep, not rough... just soft and sincere.

And it stopped my breath cold.

When she pulled away, her voice dropped into something gentler, something that hit me straight in the chest. "Is that good enough? Proof that I’m not angry?"

She exhaled slowly, looking straight into my eyes. "I’m not mad, Nick. Maybe I’m intense. Maybe I speak before I think. But I’m not mad. Not at you."

Then she shifted.

Her legs slid over my sides, straddling me.

Fuck.

Her chest pressed lightly to mine, her skin still wet and warm from the bath. She rested her hands on my shoulders, giving me those wide, eager eyes—like she was ready for story time. Except this wasn’t a bedtime fairytale.

This was dangerous.

She had no idea how close I was to forgetting my own damn name, let alone the plan.

"I want to know everything," she said.

I swallowed hard.

This position... her body so close, her voice soft, trusting... this could either end in confession—or combustion.

And I wasn’t sure which one would come first.

********

Thank you for the Golden Tickets! XOXO

Edna_R2679

Cherry_Pei

JJJ98

Tara_374