Chapter 548

Hannah kept her eyes lowered, her focus fixed on the plate before her. She had no interest in small talk and offored a clipped response. "No, I rarely cook. Most times, it's either Vincent handling it or the chef on his payroll."

Brixton leaned in, clearly intrigued. "They say a man's heart is won through his stomach, yeah? Don't you worry that he might drift if you don't cook for him?"

Hannah lacked the patience for such intrusive questions, but given the circumstances, she calmly replied, "If he ever decides to walk away, it won't be because I don't cook. It'll be because I wasn't enough to make him stay."

Inside,she felt certain-Vincent cherished her for who she was,not for her kitchen skills. Besides, she despised the greasy haze of cooking fumes, and he never pressured her to cook. The only reason she was cooking here was survival-and her selective palate demanded it.

Across the table, Brixton began asking calculated questions about her and Vincent. Hannah answered vaguely, never offering anything revealing.

Maybe it was the few days of tension-free coexistence-or maybe Brixton genuinely liked her food-but the air tonight lacked its usual hostility.

Eventually, Hannah decided to test the waters. She looked up and asked carefully, "Have you managed to reach Vincent?"

Brixton met her gaze, eyes narrowing. "Getting anxious? Missing him?"

She didn't pretend otherwise. "Yes. I miss him."

His expression darkened slightly, but his voice remained flat."Then you'll be disappointed. The ship's comms got busted during the cleanup a few days ago. No one's reachable right now."

Her chest tightened. "How long will we be stuck out here?"

The days had blurred together. She no longer knew how long she'd been aboard, how long she'd been their prisoner.

"That's not something you need to worry about as a hostage,"Brixton replied coldly. "When the time comes, you'll see him."

Understanding that the conversation had reached its limit,Hannah said nothing more. She placed her utensils down,rose from her seat, and muttered, "I'm done. Enjoy your meal."

Without glancing back, she exited the dining room.

Scorpio watched her go and leaned toward Brixton. "Mr. Ward,she seemed pissed. As a hostage, she should act like one.I could have someone remind her of her place."

Brixton stabbed another bite with his fork, eyes unreadable."No need."

Scorpio hesitated and then added under his breath, "Mr. Ward,the comms aren't entirely dead. The satellite line's still working.Why-"

A sharp look from Brixton froze him mid-sentence.

"Why the hurry?" Brixton said quietly, setting his fork down."Have you forgotten? We're after more than just Vincent's money. Handing over Hannah for a ransom now would be too easy on him. The timing isn't right. Let him spiral for a while-lost, frantic, out of options. I want him to become a headless chicken. The more restless he becomes, the more it plays into our hands."

Realization flickered in Scorpio's eyes. "Right, right! You're wise!You're always ten steps ahead."

But Brixton said nothing more. That wasn't the whole story.There was another reason, one he hadn't voiced-not even to himself. He didn't actually want to release Hannah. Not yet.Something was captivating about her-the way she kept her cool,the flash of stubbornness behind those eyes, the softness she tried to hide. Plus, she cooked well.

He rarely felt anything but irritation around women,but Hannah?She was... different. That alone made her worth keeping around for a while.

"She's not bad in the kitchen," Brixton said aloud, his tone detached. "With the transfer to the new vessel coming up, she can handle the banquet."

Scorpio blinked, caught off guard, and then quickly nodded."Understood! I'll get it sorted."

What neither man realized was that Hannah hadn't gone far.She stood just beyond the dining room, hidden in the hallway's curve, having overheard every word that followed her exit.