No Hearts At Stake

04| Is That a Knight In Shining Armor?

The sound of the man's erratic footsteps broke the stillness of the dawn. I saw him approach slowly, staggering and cursing; it was quite obvious that he was drunk, and that was a bad omen for me, as I was alone on the deck. His skinny silhouette, wrapped in that elegant alpaca coat, almost disappeared into the darkness of the sea behind him. I recognized him immediately, of course, much faster than it took him to recognize me. He was the flirty guy who smiled at me during the boarding, the same one whose smug smile had faded under my cutting gesture.

For a second, I cursed my bad luck: out of all the people on the cruise, I had to run into the seductive drunk. But as soon as I saw his smug little smile and how he rhythmically pointed at me, along with that malicious glint in his eyes, it made me understand that ours had not been a casual encounter. He followed me, perhaps he was in the casino the whole time, and waited for the moment when he could have me alone, cornered.

“I knew it was you. My instinct never fails. And just look at how out of place you are.” He said in a mocking tone, almost spitting the words. I struggled to hold back my retching, the fresh air on deck was not enough to dissipate even a bit of the stench of alcohol and tobacco that came from his mouth like poisonous gas. My body tensed instantly, but I couldn't suppress a disgusted expression.

"Excuse me?" I replied diplomatically while taking a step back, tilting my body so the smell wouldn't reach me easily, praying the wind would do its job. Had he thrown up on himself?

“What is that I see over there? Is that... a waitress uniform? Do you serve dishes in the restaurant?”

“I work in the casino, sir.” I corrected him sharply. The i***t couldn't have been older than me, but I had signed a contract that required me to be respectful to all passengers and address them as sir and lady, even if some didn't deserve those titles.

“Ah! A dice-thrower! Well, well... And you dared to raise your filthy hand at me because I smiled at you?” He looked me up and down, in a crude attempt to offend me, but the movement of his eyes made him dizzy and he stumbled a bit.

“I don't know what you're talking about, sir. I assure you that I...”

“Of course you know it, damn it! You know it so well! You seemed cute to me in the afternoon and I really wanted to introduce myself to get to know you, but you rejected me? Do you know who the hell I am? Do you know who my father is?” He laughed in a wheezing chuckle. “You are a very out-of-touch girl, that's clear. Rubbing shoulders with so many millionaires has made you lose touch with reality, but let me tell you one thing: no maid is going to reject me. Do you understand? So come on, you'll accompany me to my cabin.”

I took a deep breath, telling myself not to take anything the man was saying personally. The guy was drowning in alcohol and who knew what else. That was the only way someone would be foolish enough to say such nonsense... He wasn't in his right mind, but then again, how the hell was I not supposed to take it personally? He was calling me cheap trash. My urge to throw a good right hook to his nose was making my hands itch.

“As I already told you, sir, I work in the casino. And I am not authorized to attend to anyone in their cabin, I am neither authorized nor obligated to attend to any passenger outside the casino rooms. If you need any kind of support, you can call one of the crew members or the waitresses. They...”

“I want you, damn it! In my bed. Someone has to teach you manners. And you can't tell me no. I'm paying for everything on this damn cruise.” He clicked his tongue, his angry expression seemed to dissipate like foam, and suddenly he looked pleading as he took a step towards me. “I was going to be nice, you know? I was going to invite you to dinner, to stroll on the deck, maybe some cocktails by the pool, and then take you to bed. I would f**k you hard... I'll f**k you hard. I'm good, I really am.” Once again, his mood changed like the fluttering of a flag. His eyebrows joined to form a single line over his eyes. “But you women are always so pretentious. That's how women are now, no? You think you're superior to all the guys. You use your beauty as an excuse to dismiss us. You make it so difficult for us... But you, dice-thrower, you're not even that pretty.” A burp interrupted his monologue and then it seemed like he had forgotten what he was doing, the guy was too drunk. Then he looked at me and snapped his fingers impatiently. "Come with me, I said.”

“I've already told you…” I raised my chin and stared at him intently, clenching my fists. “That I won't go anywhere with you. It would be better if you returned to your cabin.” I kept backing away. Sensing that the danger was increasing by the second. I wondered how fast it would be; in its state, it would hardly be faster than me.

“Do you still think you're too good for me? Or is it that you prefer old men, is that it? I can show you what I have here. No impotent elder will give you this.”

The irrationality of that situation overwhelmed me. Each word fell on me like a warning. There was no way to reason with him; not a single neuron was functioning in his head, and even though he hadn't touched me yet, I felt that the situation could spiral out of control at any moment. He would do it, and it wouldn't be pleasant. It wasn't just the contempt in his voice, but the threatening way he approached, closing the distance between us with calculated slowness, slowly extending his arms to make sure he would catch me if I tried to flee by the flanks. My heart began to pound, the adrenaline awakening every fiber of my body.

I contemplated my options. Jules and Connor had taught me a couple of things about self-defense: A strong and well-placed kick to the balls, followed by an upward elbow to the face of anything my arm could reach, hopefully that would break his nose. The man in front of me was taller than me, but he was thin and not a man in the full sense of the word, he was still young... he had a young man's body, it shouldn't be difficult to knock him down and then run. The door to the restaurant area was a couple of meters away, even if he reached me there, there had to be someone, one of the guys must have been awake getting things ready for breakfast. I tried to focus on that, on the fact that I wasn't trapped, that I could get out of that situation.

When the man took another step towards me, I clenched my fists and put all my weight on my left leg. I would make sure to smash that thing he seemed so proud of.

“Do you want me to show it to you then, or will you accompany me to my cabin?”

The man took another step, and I knew the moment to act was near. I prepared to hit him, to do whatever was necessary, I thought about how much my brothers would love that story, but then, a huge shadow rose behind me, darkening the space around me.

The change in my attacker's expression was immediate. His face went from mocking arrogance to annoyance and then to panic.

"I thought I heard the lady say she wasn't interested," said a voice deep and firm as steel. So zip up your fly and I'll break your neck.

I didn't have to turn around to know who it was. Boswell, of course. His presence was imposing, and his tone brooked no argument, we knew that very well in the casino, but that drunk kid was about to wet his pants.

The man mumbled something I couldn't quite understand, his gaze faltered in my direction and over my shoulder, towards the figure of nearly two meters tall and muscular build that overshadowed him, which would make anyone back off. And then, without further ado, he turned around and walked away at great speed, almost fleeing in terror with clumsy steps that made him stumble a couple of times, increasing his state of alarm. I couldn't help but laugh. He was right about one thing, I did believe that women were superior to average men, but drunk men seemed to regress to the evolutionary state they were in when they lived in caves and fought against other beasts for a piece of meat.

"I owe you a kick in the balls, you f*****g caveman," I muttered under my breath. Immediately, an incredulous but amused hiss reached me from behind.

I turned around and found my boss, just two steps away from me, forcing me to strain my neck to look at him. Under that lighting, his blue eyes almost seemed to shine, and his skin looked darker. Without knowing why, my breath quickened and his scent began to overwhelm me.

“Did your professors at Cambridge teach you that language?”

“My brothers did it.”

“Curious. On television, they seem like very polite individuals.”

“On television they are, yes.” I replied, instantly understanding that neither of them was trying to hide my identity. His satisfied smile made me realize that he had led me exactly to the point he wanted to take me. He took advantage of my bewilderment, that scoundrel.

"Are you going to attack me too?" he asked after a few seconds, glancing at my still clenched fists.

Realizing what I was doing, and unable to stop myself from smiling at my fighter attitude, I exhaled slowly and opened both hands, feeling the tension leave my body.

"Thank you for the support," I murmured after another sigh.

“Don't mention it, it would have been a pleasure to teach that brat a lesson in life.”

“Yes, I know what you're talking about.” I added, and we both smiled in silence. But I instantly tensed up.

Was I really having a friendly conversation with Vanko Boswell? Was the bitter casino manager smiling at something I had said? Was that a sign of a major glitch in the Matrix? Anyway, I had already had enough emotions for one night.

"I'll go back to the casino," I said without further explanation. He seemed perplexed, just for a second, before nodding and stepping aside to let me pass.

I moved towards the crew corridor door, but then I stopped to look over my shoulder; it was as if I had noticed his absence, the void he left in my bubble. I saw him approach the railing and lean his elbows on it. I had thought he would follow me back to the casino, he was rarely seen outside of it, and it was as if he only existed to loiter in the gaming room or in his office reprimanding someone. Seeing him contemplate the night landscape as I had been doing moments ago felt unreal, and then, without waiting for confirmation from my head, my feet began to move back to the railing, stopping next to him.

Boswell looked over his shoulder at me, arching one of his thick and dark eyebrows.

"I still have ten minutes left," I said in response to a question he didn't ask.

"Eight, actually," he corrected me with the same insufferable tone as always.

I rolled my eyes, and that made him snort softly, smiling without opening his mouth. I noticed the two grooves that formed on his cheeks. A year and a half, and I had no idea he had grooves instead of dimples when he smiled, but it was obvious, he never smiled, and at the thought that I had seen him smile more times that night than in all my time as his subordinate, I was anchored to the ground, to the railing, by his side. I wouldn't leave until I knew the reason for that change.