Survive Another Day With These Tough Women

Gabriel "Gabe" Callahan I leaned against the ship’s deck rail, staring out at the endless ocean. The salty breeze hit my face, bringing with it a kind of peace I hadn’t felt in a long time. Freedom. That word was supposed to feel sweet—but for me, it just left a bitter taste in my throat. I used to be someone. Gabriel—or Gabe, like my friends used to call me—part of a special forces unit. Now? I’m nobody. Dishonorably discharged, accused of being a traitor during a classified mission. The irony? I was just trying to save my team—thrown under the bus for the sake of some higher-up’s political agenda. But the world doesn’t care about the truth. It just needs someone to blame. The last bit of severance money I got was barely enough to buy a cheap ticket on this cruise ship. I wasn’t here for luxury. I just wanted to get as far away as possible from a world that stabbed me in the back. I walked along the deck, watching the passengers enjoying their trip. Men in suits, women in shimmering dresses—they looked like they belonged to another planet. I didn’t fit in. A few of them even looked at me like I was some stain on their pretty little vacation. “Well, look who had the nerve to board this ship,” a woman’s mocking voice rang out behind me. I turned around. A group of women stood by the cocktail table, decked out in expensive dresses, their confident faces perfectly made up, perfumed, sexy. They came from all over—Indian, East Asian, European, American. I recognized a few of them—socialites, actresses, career women famous for their charity work. And one of them? A former Japanese adult film star who’s probably featured in half the world’s wet dreams. Seeing her in person? Way more stunning. Something stirred in me. Then there was this French blonde woman with piercing blue eyes. She kept watching me with this judgmental stare. Suddenly, she moved. Her hand, holding a glass of wine, tilted just slightly—spilling red liquid all over my shirt. “Oh! My God,” she said in this fake shocked tone, eyes wide like I had bumped into her. “You ran into me!” I looked down at my now-stained white shirt. Then back at her. I saw right through her little act. But up close, her eyes really did look like the ocean. “Sorry,” I said flatly. No way was I playing her game. One of her friends giggled. A petite Asian-American woman, straight black hair, glasses—she seemed out of place with the rest of them. More scientist than socialite. What kind of group was this? “Poor guys should know their place,” the Asian-American woman commented. “But damn, he’s hot!” Okay, I take it back—brains weren’t her strong suit. I could’ve fired back, but... why bother? I just sighed, took off my jacket, and walked away. I was here for peace, not to argue with people who lived in bubbles made of gold and ego. But then, just as I turned the corner, the French woman spoke again, her voice low but loud enough for me to hear. “Don’t you recognize me?” I froze for a second—but didn’t look back. “You’re... off duty? Why are you here?” she continued, sounding more curious than I expected. My heart skipped. Was this a coincidence, or did she actually know who I was? “Wrong person,” I muttered, then walked off to find a bathroom. I needed to clean my shirt. Damn—this vacation just got way more complicated than I thought. And then, a woman walked into the men’s bathroom. No knocking, no hesitation. Made me uncomfortable, even if we were the only ones there. I looked up—and there she was. The same sharp-eyed French woman, staring right at me. “What are you doing in here?” I asked, thrown off by how bold she was. “Following you,” she said casually, washing her hands next to me. “Sorry about the wine. I did that on purpose—you didn’t recognize me. I’ll replace your shirt.” She smiled, not the least bit guilty. And then... I remembered. I had seen her before—once, at a boutique where Maria used to work. That name—Maria. I let out a deep sigh. Just like that, this trip started to feel even darker. “You’re Maria’s boss, right?” I asked, my voice flat. “Isabella Devereux. And you’re Gabe, aren’t you?” she replied in that unmistakable French accent. She stood there like she owned the place—even though we were in a men’s bathroom. “Maria doesn’t work for me anymore, but I still remember the little drama you two caused at my store. Quite the scene.” “I don’t like talking about the past,” I said, monotone. “Oh?” Isabella leaned closer. “Judging by how tense you are, I’m guessing you’re not here on some work trip. You’re vacationing?” I narrowed my eyes. “Do you always stick your nose in other people’s business?” “Only when it’s interesting.” She licked her lips, watching me like I was some puzzle. “So... are you and Maria vacationing together?” My hands clenched. Not because of her question—because of what it dragged up. Old wounds that never healed. “I don’t talk to Maria anymore. She... betrayed me,” I said coldly. Lost my job in the military after a mission went to hell. Came back to the States with nothing, and she left me for someone with a stable life. So, no—I wasn’t here with her. I was here to escape everything. Isabella was quiet for a moment, then gave me a small smile. “You don’t strike me as someone who lets life beat him down,” she said. “Maybe... you just need something a bit more challenging.” I stared at her, wary. “And you think you’re the challenge?” Isabella smirked. “Maybe. Guess we’ll find out.” The sea breeze crept into the bathroom, sharp and cold. Waves hit the side of the ship with a steady rhythm. Normally, it’d calm me. Not this time. That uneasy feeling I’d been trying to ignore all day? Still there. “I’ll leave if I’m making you uncomfortable. Oh—before I forget, I saw two guys watching you right before I came in. You might wanna know that.” And just like that, Isabella walked out, leaving me alone in the bathroom. My pulse quickened. I didn’t need long to figure out what she meant. I flipped my jacket inside out, threw on a cap, and walked out, staying alert. Sure enough, two bulky men with cold eyes were keeping tabs on me from a distance. Shit. Thought I lost them. I stood tall and tried to act normal. My hands curled into fists inside my jacket pockets. My mind raced, connecting dots from the past few days. A week ago, I escaped my unit after taking them down at the docks. I should’ve been off the radar by now. But clearly, they weren’t done hunting me. The two guys started walking toward me. One of them—short hair, scar on his chin—grinned like he’d already won. “Gabriel. The boss wants you back. Dead or alive.” I sneered. “Then I’ll go with dead.” I didn’t wait. Threw a punch straight at him, but he was ready. Blocked it smoothly, then nailed me with a knee to the gut. I stumbled back, dodged his next hit, looking for an opening. Then a woman screamed. “The ship is sinking!” I turned around—panic on every face. And then the whole ship shook violently. I lost balance, nearly slammed into the wall. Passengers around us were screaming. Plates and glasses smashed onto the floor. What the hell? This isn’t the Titanic, and there are no icebergs in Southeast Asia! I forgot about the two guys for a second and rushed to the railing. Looked out over the sea. A massive wave—way too big—was barreling toward us, crashing into the ship with brutal force. This wasn’t just some random storm. I glanced back at the two men. They looked panicked too, stumbling as the ship rocked again—harder this time. I knew it then—this wasn’t just bad weather. Something bigger was happening. And then the emergency sirens started blaring across the entire ship.