Chapter 4: Stranded
378 Words
Vanna didn’t look back.
She walked straight down the winding path from the villa to the docks, the air thick with the scent of salt and approaching rain. The sky had dimmed to a smoky gray, clouds curling like fists overhead. The sea, once glittering and calm, now churned with warning.
She reached the small pier, suitcase in hand, and spotted the island boatman checking the ropes on the banca. Relief filled her chest — just one ride and she’d be free of this cursed place.
“I need to leave. Now.”
The boatman glanced at her, concern flickering across his sun-worn face.
“Ma’am, we’re not going anywhere tonight.”
Her breath caught. “What?”
He nodded toward the angry sky.
“Storm’s building fast. Coast Guard already gave notice — all small boats are grounded ‘til morning. Maybe longer.”
Vanna looked out toward the sea. The wind had picked up, whipping her hair across her face. Waves crashed against the dock posts, louder now. Angry.
Trapped.
She turned her back to the water, jaw clenched. Of course. Of course fate wouldn’t let her leave clean. Not yet.
The boatman offered a small, sympathetic shrug.
“You can take shelter back at the guest lodge. Only staff left tonight. Resort’s mostly empty now.”
She nodded stiffly and made her way back up the path, every gust of wind pushing at her like a reminder: You don’t get to walk away that easily.
As she reached the guest lodge—a quiet, weathered building on the far side of the island—she could still feel the tension in her skin, like lightning waiting to strike. The place was dim, half-powered, but clean. The rain had started to spit now, light but warning of worse to come.
She dropped her suitcase on the floor of the guest room, exhaled sharply, then laughed—a soft, hollow sound.
“Perfect. Stranded on an island with the son of the man who broke me.”
She sank onto the bed, the sheets cool beneath her, the storm beginning to rumble through the walls.
But she would not cry. Not tonight.
Let the island rage. Let the storm roar.
She would not fall apart.
Not yet.
- Writer
