- Chapter Ninety-One -

By Sea Or By Land

Ink splotches sealing her lids like a heavy glue, the first thing Daniella realized when she regained consciousness was that everything was swaying, her head rolling listlessly from one side to the other. Lain on a flat surface with cold sheets that lacked any sort of scent or semblance of comfort, her thoughts shifted to the sea. Ultra indigo and bleeding ebony, in the distance she could just barely discern a distant memory of landing on the island, of plans for stealing away on an onion smuggler's skiff in the dead of night. Or was that from some other story...?

Unsure of much and more as her mind rotted in watery limbo, the heiress valiantly tried to get the story straight, to remember even the slightest detail that might clue her in as to where she presently was. Last she could remember, a boat had in fact been rented - with a rather winking tell to anyone that knew the slightest thing about either of them - and there had been a plan. Yeah, for once, there was actually more than some vague outline to work with!

As per usual, Sam would attend to the minutiae and finalize the details when they arrived at the rental place (so far as she knew, they were still without a destination). While he was preoccupied getting everything in order, she would see to her own business. Some times a girl just needed a minute to herself, it was no big deal. Assuming everything was tracking, they would be on their way...

Sam.

Name not unlike a serrated hunting knife that had been super-heated over an open flame, from one fatal error to the subsequent rejection, everything fell back in to place.

Caught up in the moment where it was safest - some small part of the young woman's fractured mind pressuring her to say what she might never get the chance to - a lot of things had snowballed in rapid succession. What had seemed so right in their hermetically sealed bubble was in truth the hubris of Icarus, if only because it was so heretical. Over the course of their time together, he made it no secret where he stood on certain issues, and yet the words had tumbled out regardless.

Abandonment therefore understandable but no less painful to endure, there had been more at play than her scene partner had realized. Cast aside like last week's trash and left in her own tears, the young heart had been left to the mercy of a stranger... The one thing she feared worse than anything else, even (his) rejection... How the thief had missed the signs when he had been facing the culprit the entire time was a subject for another day, as it was... unfortunate, but again something that had made sense in context.

Because of course I would get kidnapped again.

Fingers kneading through a carpet of pine needles that was really the crisp off-white of undyed cotton, her mind replayed the heart-stopping boom of a single gunshot. Twitching in paralytic cooperation, her muscles tensed and recoiled with the low dive from the bottom of the backseat to the woodsy floor. Temple throbbing in a sanguine flash, Dells was reliving the pressure of the worn leather work boot as it ground her down into the dirt, crushing into her ribs to the point that a crack seemed strongly within the realm of possibility.

Then came the literal short-circuit to fry what was left; the buzzy blue electricity shot at least a hundred volts through her equally blue blood. And the words... Spoken smugly, as if the speaker knew something vitally important that she did not. 'Nice try, little girl'. Brain filling in the condescending blanks, honestly she was more stuck on the tone the bastard took than on the vague feeling that she had seen his like somewhere before.

[Colors Of Woe]

Gray laced through with navy shards dark enough to only have come from the Mariana Trench, the young woman gradually forced her eyes open.

What plagues you so?

Pensively hovering at the young woman's side as if she were on her deathbed, the mastermind of this latest threat pondered what it was that haunted the crown jewel of the empire so deeply. Rest undoubtedly uneasy as she trembled in her fitful sleep, there must have been something, some shallow woe that only the elite could understand in their cushy lives. Or perhaps it was something closer at hand...?

Ghosts over a plain that they could no longer touch, his war-worn hands hovered the shape of her shoulder, curving alongside the cup of her chest to rest just above her abdomen.

Cuffed by the fine ribbons of foggy uncertainty, the icy undertones of shattered steel were so much like Rafe's, it was nigh unsettling. Despite having only seen the proof in a handful of photos poach from the internet, he had to admit that the transfer was uncanny. Some people have all the luck...

Strictly speaking, the resemblance to the deceased made some small sense of Sam Drake's otherwise inexplicable attraction to the little nit. Under any other circumstance the mastermind wouldn't have cared enough about the relationship to spare it a second thought, however, this count was special - more involved than she knew, he couldn't say he condoned it.

Back slightly bent as he fawned over the young woman's supine silhouette, as Daniella regained consciousness he sprang into a perfectly still, upright position. Alert and ready for anything, the boot-wearing young man kept both eyes locked on his guest, watching for any cleaver ideas or fainting spells. History had proven the heiress to be quite crafty, and more than willing to risk life and limb; it had also betrayed just how fragile she could be.

[Not Without My Permission]

The question on everyone's lips being where the devil the heiress had vanished to this time, no one was willing to actually ask it out loud. Which was probably for the best anyways, given all the sets of eyes trained on their retreating backs, most of which were sternly making sure that they were indeed going to play nice moving forward.

Not taking in to account the obvious annoyance boiling through his usual salty veneer, as the one person that had been tasked with the responsibility of minding the girl, Sam was too proud to directly admit to anything. At least not until it absolutely had to come out, which was invariably bound to be sooner rather than later. Jaw locking mid-march, the historian knew deep down that he really screwed the pooch on this one, and he was in no hurry to suffer Chloe and Nadine letting him know the many ways he had messed up.

Erring on the side of cautious professionalism, the other three were weary of the other, the one(s) that was fighting on the opposite side of the war. Nadine and Chloe both were by far the most in the dark of what was happening, yet neither were very keen to broach the topic in front of the stranger; for his part, Ludo knew it was best to save it for his employer. Also, who knew if these walls had ears...

Hotel management and guests alike able to rest easy, it hadn't taken the foursome very long at all to make it to the Tiger's makeshift den. Chloe could feel the fine hairs on the back of her neck prickling against the ponytail swishing across her back, while Nadine tensed up noticeably upon entry. Wise enough to make their new friend go first, Sam pressed his palm into Ludo's shoulder, prepared to use him as a human shield at the first sign of trouble.

Instead of an armed command center or some trashed party pad, the room was clean; neutral the theme of the hour, the most descriptive item was the light leaf-motif threaded into the curtains with powder blue thread. Most everything tucked away, the only personal items in sight were a laptop, an open phone on the coffee table, and an arrant asshole that has just been left out in the open for anyone to see.

Caught unawares by the return of his man (and most definitely not prepared for the hangers-on), Jian did a double-take when he saw his muscle standing in the door with none other than his bride-to-be's little clique. Taking to playing with his zipper out of sheer mind-numbing boredom while waiting, the pulley bit dangled in the wind when his hand fell away. Decidedly not the impression one would want to make when first meeting the significant other's nearest and dearest, this was the sort of moment his cousin was always predicting he'd wind up in.

Point Yahui.

Not wasting any time - or risking his already battered treasure any further - Ludoviko threw a hand up to invite the trio to settle themselves as they would, prioritizing his attention on putting the bag on the coffee table. Not too close to the phone, even though it was technically just a spare. Such a waste of prime pepper jack and hand-milled tortillas.... Well, pai did always say that it went down the same...

Clustered together in a small knot near the one visible exit while the triad leader was lounging back in the middle of the dimple-backed sofa, the grizzled brunette was closest to the competition. Nadine held the distinct honor of covering the door (though that would have been easier if she had been armed), her honey-rich gaze roaming the length of the spacious suite. Just as switched-on and battle-ready, the dark-haired beauty took swift account for the layout of the room, as well as the fact that none of them seemed to have a firearm in sight. Bright side was that they all seemed on even footing at the least.

Fussing with his delicious-smelling assortment, the hired goon was not particularly bothered by the fact that no one was comfortable enough to sit down like a civil human being. If they wanted to stand, that was their own business. Anyways, it wasn't as if the seating arrangements were the most welcoming in the world.

Used to this sort of negligent behavior from his inner circle, it didn't cross Jian's mind to have at his employee, nor did it hit him to think to have his visitors frisked. Perfect Yahui would undoubtedly correct that oversight posthaste, however this all seemed rather unplanned, so it was highly unlikely that any of them were packing heat. Rising to his feet to greet the assortment of adventurers, the young crime lord approached Samuel first.

Hand extended to shake like men, instead of a cordial greeting he was met with a balled up fist to the face. Swearing that it was on actual literal fire, the sheer seething velocity and surprise of the blow had sent the younger man flying back into the man-sized indentation on the couch.

Knuckles bone-white and thirsty for more and more blood to mix with what was already there, the rather satisfying sound of impact was more than enough to make up for the dull sting that was beginning to set in. Seriously, Sam just needed a way to vent out all of the bullshit that was stacking higher and higher on his plate, to let out some of the steam burning the back of his collar.

And... By proxy, it was kinda like he was making good for what the little pimple had done to Dells in the grove. Her cheek was still the ripe shade of a grape, yet the heiress only acknowledged it when she was covering it up in the morning. Even then, that was only because she had to cover the evidence up.

Landing haphazardly in a disheveled heap, the would-be-groom held his own face, wheezing as everything caught up in time. Spitting out a labored swear for the pain, he slowly shook his head at his own man, conceding that this was something he had earned.

"Fair enough." Mindful of the potential language barrier and that the only translator was on his side, it occurred to Jian that they might assume certain liberties were being taken, so it was best to be as direct as possible. Rubbing his chin as he righted himself, the least aged criminal in the room gestured to the others that they were free to sit. "One wrong turn deserves another, yes?"

"One?" Blood pressure still not any place remotely close to calm, it took Sam everything he had to not finish what he had started - Ryan very well could have had the heiress contained off-site, so it was probably best to not murder his only lead just yet. Snipping at the punk, the thief found the kid to be rather underwhelming as a threat. "The last time we crossed paths, you had me knocked out. And that's just to start." Deep pools of ire flashed across the room to settle ever so briefly on Ludo's back. "You-"

Answering for Ludoviko was one thing, however Jian was not about to apologize for how he had handled the situation with his fiancée. Not to Drake. "I don't have to explain myself to you. That is between the two of us, Daniella and myself. How I treat my wife is none of your business."

Word 'wife' burning his ears, Sam shook his grizzled mane. "Not gonna happen." Resolute in this fact above all else, the ex-con knew in his gut that Dells was never going to give herself over just like that; not to the likes of this pustule, not to anybody.

"This was not the deal." Rising to meet that challenge of faith, this was the point where Jian would have to say that he begged to differ - the heiress had to play her part. She had all but given her word.

Stark black caterpillar arching, both Chloe and Nadine wore matching expressions as they filled in the blanks for themselves. Pivoting around so that they were squarely facing their own companion (although that wasn't to say that they weren't still ready for the first hint of treachery), neither woman was entirely shocked by this term being dropped. By all accounts it only made sense that a business-like approach had been taken, however, the details could change everything. Or nothing at all.

"Deal?" It was the former mercenary that spoke, her background as the leader of a private military company all the qualification she needed.

Right in the middle of telling himself that there was no way in hell Dells was ever going to consider what the kitten mafia was peddling, Sam jumped on the chance to catch his gal pals up to speed. "Ryan here's the one that left the little love mark." Tapping his cheek roughly where the bruise was resting on the young woman's porcelain maw, the historian plowed on, "He also gave her an ultimatum."

Again, as this sort of blackened dealing was more in Ross' old wheelhouse, it was the younger of the two women who chimed in, "Let me guess, it boiled down to him or you?" In a less tense scenario, she might have added some snide remark on how both were poor options. As it was...

Chloe felt a sudden rush of sympathy for the girl, thinking back to the moment when she had come to their room crying, all caked in dirt and distraught. Initially the locksmith had taken that for being flustered over Drake, but it seemed as if the heiress should have been back from burying a body instead.

Quirking his head to the side almost whimsically when the liver-spotted paramour touched his face and mentioned someone by the name of Ryan, Jian blinked in confusion, looking to Ludo for an explanation on what he had missed. "Ryan?"

Bemoaning the loss of heat that made fresh food the most scrumptious (outside the odd recipe), the tank of a man reluctantly answered the summons. It was a part of the job, however he never much cared for having to relay back the bad news. Aware of the daggers being glared at his boss without actually having to see them for himself, Ludo felt safe working with assumption this one time. "I think he's referring to you."

Conversation an aside, the very definition of a limited exchange, the Orange Tigers refrained from pouncing again until the moment had presented itself. When it did, it did so with a heavy pause dripping in self-reflection, Nadine Ross concluding what the conditions of the previous arrangement were. Statement of base fact not entirely inaccurate - technically - the situation had since evolved.

"She made her choice." Missing the rather blatant fact that they were still one person short of a party, Jian was smug in his victory. Why wouldn't he be when he had the receipts to prove it?

[We're Not So Different, You And I]

Vision fuzzy, as the heiress took in the stark nakedness of the low-ceilinged metal cage that made up her barren surroundings, the only thing she could tell for sure was that there world was sliding side-to-side. Nauseous due to the swaying motion, there was one other thing: there was the shape of a person hovering just within reaching distance. Her first instinct was to go back to early childhood, to when most people would find themselves home in bed with a bowl of soup, a warm blanket, and a loving mother. Warm blanket the only thing she could relate to, Daniella knew in her gut that something was wrong with the picture.

Given all the many times the thief had been there by her side during the recovery process, Sam easily could fill in that blank space, however, that was before she had gone and pissed him away. And honestly, something about this... it just felt wrong somehow. Logan would have said the vibe was off, and he wouldn't have been terribly off the mark to word it like that.

Temple throbbing with the echo of a blow, the bright side was that the pain was more or less in the manageable range... the downside was that her eyes were extra susceptible to the dim light glowing overhead. Unimpressive and plain, the girdled bulb was attached to the wall above the bed, casting deep shadows across the steel floor. Hand roaming further over the top of the crisp linens, the heiress came into direct contact with the triangular mount that kept the bed fastened to the unpainted wall. Mind picturing a basic bookshelf AND a prison cot all in one go, a certain kind of image was beginning to form about this stranger invading her personal space.

Checking all the bad boxes before she could even get a proper look at the young man, the mastermind behind the abduction studied the young woman's frantic searching of the room. Applauding her for that kind of vigilant survival instinct, he offered his version of what was meant to be a comforting smile. Beauty mark above his upper lip standing out in the faint light when he attempted a show of good will, the boot-wearer inclined his head ever so slightly.

"Awake at last. You're quite the heavy sleeper, you know that?" Not complaining about this factoid from a logistic perspective, her being rendered unconscious by his taser had allowed his men to make her presentable for the voyage. Glossing over the nature of her relationship with that petty locust she so favored, the last thing she would want was for anyone else to see her in such a state. Especially where they were going.

Line particularly unsettling when she had woken up to some stranger watching her sleep for who knows how long, Dells instinctively squirmed away from her captor until her back was literally to the wall. Arm defensively curling inward to protect herself or otherwise sock this unknown person if need be, when the outside jut of her thumb tickled the expanse below her collar, the heiress realized with a chill that she couldn't feel her shirt.

Hyper aware of just how exposed she felt against the metallic air of the floating tin can, the fine hairs on her body prickled like hackles, and she was compelled to look down. Scars on full display and wounds open to breathe in the salty brine, someone had stripped her bare, down to skin and bone for the picking.

Voice seeping with disinterest and accent drowning in lazy boredom, the young man shrugged nonchalantly as if nothing were wrong about the situation. Etiquette lost somewhere along the lines of his life, he also wasn't dropping his piercing hazel gaze from her frightened victim's eyes, watching intently as she cycled through all the many kinds of fear. Explaining himself as if he were doing her some sort of favor, even his condescending answer sounded as if she were some kind of idiot for not knowing something so obvious, "You were filthy, so our friends cleaned you up."

Shiver only amplified as her mind raced ahead and backwards and all around, if it weren't flooded by poison, the heiress might have realized that his eyes were familiar, and why. Forgivable under the circumstances, instead Daniella was trying to tell herself that there was no way he was speaking about them. He couldn't... There was no way that they were... Was there?! Vapid and in vain, her shuddering attempts to console herself that he was in no way connected to the monsters that shattered her porcelain mask fell short of solace's shadow.

"Friends?" Meek and cracked as her badly patched veneer, Dells barely even recognized her own voice.

Hands locking tight beneath her chin as she covered her breasts from the worst of it and shifting her thighs around to hide what remained of her 'modesty', the pathetic gesture was almost enough to make him laugh. "Don't flatter yourself - that's not my thing. In fact, you'll find that no one on this boat is going to want you that way." Leaning forward so that he seemed to tower over the princess like a giant of yore, the young man considered the flecks of silver that retreated beneath the growing pool of nothingness in her terrified eyes. "Does that bother you?" He didn't need to finish that sentence for her to know that he was referring to her unprofessional relationship with her bodyguard.

Were she a braver woman, Daniella might have felt irritated by the implication on top of drowning in the thousand hands of fear that were all fighting to drag her under. But no, she was not nearly so brave, so instead it only felt as if her heart were about to go in to cardiac arrest out of sheer terror. As if that was any better.

Not relenting in the slightest with his hardcore studying session, he clicked his tongue pensively, belatedly remembering that he had gift for the young woman. "I almost forgot to ask... How's your head? I have some aspirin here if it still hurts."

Offer congenial enough to sound harmless to the layman, her brain conspired against her at that very moment, flaring up in tandem with his words. Sting considerably stronger than a floppy old flyswatter whacking her in the side of the skull, it was the pinching between her eyes that was most liable to kill her... Which was a very regrettable way to phrase anything at the moment.

Weary of merrily just accepting drugs from strangers after what had transpired with Angel and Ashley, the heiress thought even farther back, mind going to that very first morning. Sam an actual stranger in every possible way at that point, when he had forced her to down the breakfast he had whipped up, it was a better version of the lesson that you never could be sure what folks were capable of.

Telling the truth in that the handful of pills weighing the inside of his pocket were of an aspirin base, the full story was a little bit different. Just a hair. "While I commend the caution, I feel obligated to also point out that if I wanted you gone, your bones would already be at the bottom of the sea."

Reluctant to agree with the tried-and-true logic of all abductors everywhere, she had more pressing concerns on her mind than a mild headache. Case in point, Dells would much rather have been offered anything - even a half-dead animal that she would have to kill and skin herself - to cover up with. A piece of crinkly tissue paper made specifically for decoration, an old sail that had been entirely lost to a colony of barnacles... Anything that wasn't sheer.

Aware that the sociopath that had bought the medicine would be more annoyed that the trip was for nothing than he himself cared about the final result, ultimately it was up to her to take the pill or not. What should the young man care if the heiress had to suffer and spend the rest of her life tethered to the bastard?

"Have it your way - this was for your own good, not mine." Thoroughly indifferent to the outcome, the mastermind shrugged, deciding to leave the offer on the table, "If you should change your mind, know the offer will stand."

Proud of herself for finally making a smart decision, in a more just scenario Daniella might have been able to enjoy that small victory. Then again, if there had been anything even remotely fair about the situation, the young woman wouldn't have been stranded out at sea with a stranger - should would probably be sitting with a different asshole. At least in that timeline, she would more than likely be dressed...

Breath short-lived and hitching in her chest as she built up enough nerve to speak, the heiress cut to the heart of the matter, "What do you want?"

Mouth twitching in place, the young man reached across the stolen (flinching) princess to stroke the side of her face, lamenting the fair wig that hid her true identity. The great golden lie that ruined the formerly umber proof that marked her as her father's daughter. "Funnily enough, I want the same thing you do... I want to take back what was stolen. I want to find Rafe Adler's final resting place." Leaving a small pause to let this sink in, he lightly smoothed the great ugly beast on her cheek, tracing the long shape of her face. "I want to bring our father home."

If she were writing this to be a supernatural story, the culprit behind this most recent abduction would have been none other than her own father. Of course, they did often say that the truth was stranger than fiction.

Author's Note:

Apologies for the delay between chapters folks! In addition to this chapter just taking ages to take shape, I had a LOT of stuff to skim over for this chapter, not to mention math. Yeah, I actually did MATH for this series! Honestly not sure it was A+ work, but I think I did enough research that it should serve as fairly accurate (now it just remains to be seen if the work is used).

It also doesn't help that not one but two highly anticipated games of mine came out this month. And, that burn-out feeling is rising, so there might be more and more time between chapters. Maybe? I don't know anything for sure yet, it just feels prudent to warn you all of the possibility.

Actually, on that note, I was wondering how you guys would take me putting out update chapters? Like instead of chapter 101, or whatever, it was me letting everyone know that the chapter is taking longer, or that I broke my arm and can't write, or what have you? I don't want to fill up your inboxes (for the six or so of you that follow the story), but I also don't want to worry anyone either. Feel free to chime in by either PMing me or putting it in a review, yeah? Or I guess don't say anything at all if you don't care? Hmm, guess we'll have to wait and see how that aspect shapes up.