Chapter 557

Brixton advanced,leaving Hannah no room to refuse again.With a swvift motion, he pinned the peacock hairpin into her hair,its cold metal grazing her scalp.

A shiver ran through Hannah, urging her to tear it out immediately.

"Don't remove it," Brixton ordered, his voice cold, as if he'd read her thoughts.

Reluctantly, Hannah left the hairpin in place. She turned back to the sea,swallowing the nausea and dread roiling inside her. Her heart ached for home, for Vincent, more fiercely than ever,but she knew patience was her only ally. If her plan worked,escape was within reach.

Brixton lingered beside her, his eyes drifting to her repeatedly.As he watched her, a twisted sense of satisfaction and possessiveness bloomed within him. Keeping a sharp-witted,beautiful woman like her as a captive, forcing her compliance,was proving more captivating than striking a deal with Vincent.He found himself reluctant to let her go.

Over the next two days, Brixton seemed to uncover a new source of amusement. He started to task Scorpio with collecting lavish items-elegant dresses, glittering jewelry, and more.

Each time, Brixton would claim they were "found" on the second deck and then demand that Hannah wear them to show him. Any hint of hesitation from Hannah's end would spark his displeasure, leaving her no choice but to obey.

Thus, Hannah became an enigma-a hostage draped in

Thus, Hannah became an enigma-a hostage draped in luxurious gowns and adorned with priceless jewels. Her true identity remained a mystery to most, but all knew Brixton quite valued her.

Rumors spread like wildfire, painting her as his "trophy companion." Some even spun tales of her arrogance, claiming she demanded extravagant jewelry and fine clothes.

Hannah found the rumors laughable, almost absurd. She knew Brixton's actions weren't favor but a perverse method of control, treating her like a puppet for his amusement.

Rumors held a dangerous power.

Scorpio, fiercely loyal to Brixton, grew bitter watching his leader lavish attention on a mere hostage-a woman who appeared ungrateful and aloof. His resentment simmered,manifesting in increasingly hostile behavior toward her.

When their paths crossed in thecorridors, he'd block Hannah's way or nitpick her actions, like when she served meals.

Hannah,avoiding conflict, confined herself to her third-deck cabin,venturing to the lower deck only when necessary.

She counted the days in silence; one or two more, and her chance could come.

That evening, after a modest dinner, a sharp knock jolted her cabin door.

Scorpio stood outside, his face etched with impatience and agitation."You! Come with me!" he barked.

Hannah's brow creased. "What's going on?"

"Mr. Ward is sick-high fever, won't break," Scorpio said gruffly."Got any way to help?"

Hannah nearly laughed. "You need a doctor, not me.What can

Hannah nearly laughed. "You need a doctor, not me. What can

I do?"

She was a captive,not a medic.

Scorpio's expression darkened, his voice low. "We don't trust doctors easily. Anyway, he's asking for you specifically.You're responsible for bringing his fever down." He stepped closer,his threat unmistakable. "If anything happens to him, you'll be the first to pay-with a bullet."

Before Hannah could protest, Scorpio dragged her to Brixton's cabin.

Inside, Brixton lay on the bed, drenched in sweat, his face flushed with fever. Even in his delirium, his fingers rested near his waist, clutching at a weapon's outline.

Scorpio shoved her inside, shooting her a venomous glare before retreating.

Hannah muttered curses under her breath and then approached Brixton. She soaked a towel in cool water and pressed it to his forehead to ease his fever.

Deciding to leave him to rest, she moved to the door-only to find it locked. Damn it! Scorpio had locked the door.