Twisted Decisions

Chapter3- MORE THAN SMALL TALK?

Sunlight spread across the deck in soft golden streaks. Trianna sat cross-legged on a lounge chair, sketchbook balanced on her knees. She had tried to draw the sunrise, but the colors never felt right on paper. No matter how she shaded or blended, it didn’t look the way the ocean looked in front of her. Instead, her pencil kept drifting back to the memory of gray eyes and a sharp smile.

She sighed and shook her head, pressing too hard and leaving a smudge. “Ridiculous,” she muttered.

“You talk to yourself often?”

Her pencil froze. The voice was smooth, familiar. She glanced up, and there he was—Luise. Dressed casually in light pants and a linen jacket, he looked like he belonged in a travel magazine. Effortless. Expensive. Out of her world.

“Sometimes,” she said, lifting her chin. “Only when the pencil refuses to cooperate.”

He smirked, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Looks to me like the pencil’s doing just fine." May I?”

Before she could answer, he pulled out the chair beside her and sat down. His cologne—fresh and clean—drifted in the breeze. Trianna shifted on her chair, trying to focus on her sketchbook, but every nerve in her body seemed to spark with awareness.

“Why art?” he asked suddenly.

She looked at him, startled. “Why not?”

“That’s not really an answer.”

She hesitated, chewing her lip. “Because… drawing is the only place life makes sense." Out here, everything is loud and confusing. But on paper, I get to choose the lines, the shapes, the ending. It’s the one part of my life I can control.

Something flickered in his expression. He leaned back, studying her carefully, as if she had given away more than she realized.

“You’re not ordinary, Trianna.”

Her chest tightened. “How do you know my name?”

His lips curved slightly. “The ship’s registry, I might have been… curious."

Curious. About her? The thought sent a rush of heat to her cheeks. She didn’t know if she should feel flattered or cautious.

Before she could respond, a man in a black suit appeared at the edge of the deck. His voice was low but firm. “Mr. Vegan, they’re ready for you.

Luise’s jaw tightened briefly. He stood, straightening with quiet authority. “Duty calls.”

As he turned to leave, his gaze lingered on hers. “Stay close to the main deck today, Trianna." The ocean isn’t always as calm as it looks.

And then he was gone, leaving her with more questions than answers.

---

That evening, Trianna found herself in the ship’s library, sitting at a wooden table with her sketchbook open. She stared at the blank page, pencil resting loosely between her fingers. Luise’s words replayed in her mind. Stay close to the main deck. Why would he say that?

She looked around the quiet room. Most passengers were elsewhere, wrapped up in champagne and laughter, moving along the ship as though they owned it. Trianna felt like the outsider she was—the girl with thrift store luggage, simple clothes, and too many responsibilities waiting back home. No one here would understand why Luise’s warning had lodged itself in her chest like a stone.

By the time she returned to her cabin, the ship was dark and hushed. She lay in bed staring at the ceiling, trying to convince herself she was overthinking. He was just being kind. Maybe even protective.

Then, sometime past midnight, a sudden thud rattled against the wall behind her bed. Trianna sat upright, heart pounding. She held her breath and listened.

Muffled voices carried through the thin barrier. They were sharp, low, and urgent. She couldn’t make out the exact words, only the edge of tension in them.

Her pulse raced. She slid off the bed quietly, pressing her ear against the wall. For a moment, she thought she heard it—Luise’s name.

Her stomach dropped.

She stepped back, hugging her sketchbook to her chest. Whoever Luise really was, whatever world he came from, it wasn’t safe. And for the first time, Trianna wondered if she had walked into something far bigger than herself.