The morning sun beat down mercilessly as I adjusted my crisp white uniform for the third time. The fabric clung to my skin, already damp with sweat despite the early hour. My first day as Val Carter, junior steward on the Siren's Serenity, had begun.
"First impressions matter," I reminded myself, straightening my shoulders as I approached the crew quarters office.
A woman with a tight bun and sharper eyes looked up from her clipboard. Her name tag read 'Ashley Simmons, Supervisor.'
"You're late," she said, though I'd arrived fifteen minutes early.
"I'm sorry, ma'am. I wasn't sure where—"
"Ma'am?" She cut me off with a laugh that held no humor. "I'm not your mother. And in case you missed it, we're all women here." She tapped her clipboard against the desk. "You're Valerie Carter, right? Your paperwork says you have no experience."
I swallowed my instinct to correct her. No one could know I was Valerie Carpenter, heiress to Carpenter Maritime Industries. Not even the crew.
"I'm a quick learner," I said instead.
Ashley's lips thinned. "We'll see. Deck seven needs scrubbing. The VIP guests arrive this afternoon, and I want every surface spotless."
I glanced out the window at the blazing sun. The other new hires were being assigned indoor positions—bar service, laundry, housekeeping. But me? I was being sent to scrub decks in the midday heat.
"Is there a problem?" Ashley asked, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
"No, ma'am—I mean, no." I took the assignment sheet she thrust at me.
Hours later, my knees ached and my hands were raw despite the rubber gloves. I'd scrubbed every inch of deck seven until it gleamed. Still, Ashley circled back three times, pointing out imaginary stains.
"Here," she said, pointing to a spot I'd just cleaned. "And here. Do it again."
I bit back a retort and dipped my brush back into the bucket. This was why I was here—to understand what really happened on these ships, to find out if Brayden was using his position with my family's company for personal gain.
"Your break's in thirty minutes," Ashley called over her shoulder. "Don't be late."
The crew cafeteria was a stark contrast to the luxury dining rooms upstairs. Metal tables, plastic trays, and food that was functional rather than flavorful. I collapsed into a seat, my muscles screaming.
"Rough first day?" A young woman with freckles slid into the chair across from me.
"You could say that." I forced a smile. "Ashley seems... thorough."
"Thorough?" She snorted. "That's one word for it. I'm Mia, by the way."
As I picked at my sandwich, conversations swirled around me. The ship's gossip network was efficient—within hours, I'd learned about romances blooming in the galley and feuds in housekeeping.
"Did you hear about the Platinum Card holder?" A server two tables over didn't bother lowering her voice. "Never seen one in person before."
My hand froze mid-reach for my water.
"What's a Platinum Card?" someone asked.
"Only the most exclusive thing in luxury travel. Invitation-only. Gives you everything—free upgrades, special access, even your own personal butler." She leaned forward conspiratorially. "They say the cardholder's on board already."
My heart raced. I knew exactly what she meant. The Platinum Card was my design—a project I'd worked on personally for our most elite clientele. Brayden had one; I'd given it to him for our second anniversary, custom-engraved with his initials and a private message only we understood.
"I need to go." I stood abruptly, dumping my untouched meal.
"Your break's not over," Mia called after me.
I volunteered for the poolside bar without hesitation. If someone was using a Platinum Card on my ship, I needed to see who it was.
The pool deck glittered under the afternoon sun. Wealthy guests lounged on designer chairs while attendants circulated with drinks and towels. I spotted him immediately—a man with tattoos creeping up his neck, lounging in the most expensive cabana.
Neo Lynch.
My security team had flagged him months ago—petty crimes escalating to more serious ones. What was he doing here?
He snapped his fingers at a passing server. "Another round. And tell them to hurry up."
I approached with a tray of drinks, my hands trembling slightly. Neo barely glanced at me before flashing a card to his companion.
"Brayden knows how to treat real men," he bragged loudly. "Gave me his card personally."
The card caught the sunlight—platinum with blue accents, my custom design. Brayden's initials were engraved in the corner.
My world tilted. The card was meant for Brayden alone. No one else.
"Hey!" Neo snapped at me. "You deaf? I said I want ice in this one."
I forced myself to move forward, the tray suddenly leaden in my hands. Brayden hadn't lost his card. He hadn't had it stolen.
He'd given it away—to a criminal.
The realization hit me like a physical blow. Every sacrifice I'd made, every time I'd stepped back to let him shine... had he been using my family's resources to elevate men like this?
Neo's eyes narrowed as I approached. "What's your problem, sweetheart? Never seen a real man before?"
