Chapter 281

Inside Evelyn's luxurious cabin.

The space was immaculate, designed with elegant comfort in mind. Sunlight streamed through the panoramic windows, casting golden patterns across the polished teak floors.

Evelyn's eyelids fluttered open to Lucas's ecstatic shout. "She's awake! Evelyn's awake!" His voice nearly shattered her eardrums, yet warmth flooded her chest at the sound.

Outside, gentle waves lapped against the yacht's hull, their rhythmic tapping creating a soothing melody. The Pacifica Ocean stretched endlessly beneath a cloudless cerulean sky.

Evelyn attempted to move her bandaged hands, the thick gauze making them feel foreign and unwieldy.

Lucas perched on the edge of her bed, his usually vibrant eyes rimmed red. "Lil E," his voice cracked, "I've been searching these waters for days since your plane went down. Now that I've got you back..." He swallowed hard. "Name anything - it's yours."

A faint smile touched Evelyn's lips. The scene felt surreal, like a beautiful dream, until the sharp scent of antiseptic grounded her in reality.

She was alive. Against all odds, she'd survived.

Taking in Lucas's disheveled appearance - his usually perfect hair in tangles, the shadows beneath his eyes - she managed a weak chuckle. "I'll hold you to that."

Evelyn had never hesitated to exploit her brothers' generosity. Lucas nodded vigorously, his relief palpable.

The cabin door burst open suddenly.

"Evelyn?" Nathan's deep voice carried cautious hope. Hearing him, Evelyn stiffened slightly before turning her head.

Nathan Blackwood stood in the doorway, his tailored suit wrinkled, his aristocratic features drawn with exhaustion. She remembered seeing him descend from a helicopter on that godforsaken island, though she'd assumed it was a hallucination.

Yet here he was in the flesh, having somehow extracted her from that bullet-riddled nightmare.

His stormy gray eyes brimmed with unspoken emotion. Evelyn lowered her gaze, offering a polite, distant smile. "Mr. Blackwood. I owe you my thanks."

Nathan flinched as if struck, his already pale complexion turning ashen. To her, he remained an outsider. "I... I'm just glad you're safe," he managed.

Despite the clear rejection, he moved forward with fluid grace, adjusting her pillows with practiced efficiency. "Are you in pain? Would you like something to eat?"

Evelyn's smile froze. "I'm fine, thank you." She turned back to Lucas. "Lucas, some water please?"

Lucas practically leapt to comply, shooting Nathan a triumphant look as he handed Evelyn a crystal glass.

Just as her fingers brushed the glass, Nathan intercepted, his touch feather-light on her wrist. "Wait."

From the bedside table, he produced a straw - clearly placed there in anticipation - and inserted it into the water. "This way you won't strain your stitches." His voice softened as he guided the glass to her lips. "Slowly now."

Lucas rolled his eyes dramatically. "Oh please, it's just a damn straw."

Evelyn found the gesture oddly intimate but drank gratefully. The cool mineral water tasted like ambrosia after days of barely potable filtered seawater.

Before she could set the glass down, Nathan had already taken it from her trembling grasp.

The sound of multiple footsteps interrupted them.

"Sis!" A chorus of male voices filled the cabin doorway. "We heard you were awake!" "How are you feeling, sis?" "You're insane - taking on pirates single-handedly!" "No one's ever escaped Vincent Moretti's crew before!"

"Give her space," someone admonished. "Let her rest."

Evelyn blinked at the group of rugged men crowding her doorway. Each bore the unmistakable bearing of special forces operatives - the same soldiers who'd descended from those helicopters on the island.

But why on earth were they calling her "sis"?