Chapter 3: The Man Beneath Deck Seven
The elevator to Deck 7 felt like a cage.
The metal walls reflected my face back at me.
A tired woman in a white steward uniform.
Someone who was supposed to spend her nights folding towels, arranging pillows, and making sure wealthy passengers had everything they wanted.
Not hunting through the lower decks of a cruise ship looking for a missing coworker.
Not uncovering a system built on fear.
Not wondering who I could trust.
Lena stood beside me.
She refused to let me go alone.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I whispered.
She looked straight ahead.
“Neither should you.””
I glanced at her.
“You’re injured.””
“I’m alive.””
The way she said it stopped me.
Not dramatic.
Not emotional.
Just factual.
Like she had already accepted that survival was the only thing that mattered.
The elevator continued descending.
Then she spoke quietly.
“Ava?””
“Yes?””
“If we find Emma…”
I looked at her.
“What?””
Lena swallowed.
“Don’t promise her everything will be okay.””
I frowned.
“Why?””
“Because people said that to me.””
Her voice cracked.
“And they were lying.””
The elevator doors opened.
Deck 7 was nothing like the rest of the Pacific Dream.
The passenger areas were designed to impress.
Polished floors.
Golden lights.
Fresh flowers.
Everything looked expensive.
Deck 7 felt forgotten.
The hallway lights flickered.
The walls were unfinished in some places.
Pipes ran along the ceiling.
The air smelled like metal and saltwater.
The kind of place passengers never saw.
The kind of place where people could disappear.
I stepped forward slowly.
My training took over.
Observe.
Listen.
Move carefully.
Lena followed behind me.
“Where are the records?”” I whispered.
She pointed down the hallway.
“Storage room near the crew offices.””
We moved quietly.
Then we heard something.
A voice.
A man.
Coming from around the corner.
“Check every camera.””
I froze.
Lena grabbed my arm.
“That’s him.””
“Who?””
She looked terrified.
“The man who brought me here.””
I motioned for her to stay behind me.
I moved closer to the corner.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Then I looked.
A man stood near the security terminal.
Gray uniform.
Tall.
Middle-aged.
Calm.
He wasn’t searching.
He was controlling.
He held a tablet in one hand and spoke into a radio.
“The girl from Suite 1201 has complicated things.””
A voice answered.
“What about the steward?””
The man smiled.
“The steward is more interesting.””
My stomach tightened.
They were talking about me.
He continued.
“She’s not reacting like the others.””
The radio crackled.
“Remove the problem.””
The man looked at the security camera feed.
And smiled.
“Soon.””
I pulled back before he saw me.
Lena whispered:
“That’s Victor Hale.””
“Who is he?””
She looked confused.
“You don’t know?””
“No.””
Her expression changed.
“He’s the ship operations director.””
I stared at her.
“The person responsible for everything?””
She nodded.
“He has access to every deck. Every camera. Every employee record.””
I looked back toward the hallway.
“So Whitmore wasn’t running this.””
“No.””
Her voice was barely audible.
“He was just one customer.””
The realization hit harder than I expected.
Whitmore wasn’t the beginning.
He was part of something.
Something organized.
Something bigger.
We needed evidence.
Not guesses.
Not accusations.
Evidence.
I remembered the records Lena mentioned.
The storage room.
We moved quickly.
The crew office door was locked.
I looked around.
No cameras.
No security.
I pulled a small tool from my steward belt.
Lena stared.
“What is that?””
I smiled slightly.
“My father taught me more than fighting.””
A few seconds later, the lock clicked.
We entered.
Inside were rows of cabinets.
Crew files.
Schedules.
Reports.
Everything organized perfectly.
Too perfectly.
Someone had been maintaining this.
Lena moved toward a cabinet.
“This one.””
She opened it.
Inside were folders.
Employee names.
Assignments.
Medical forms.
I grabbed one.
Then another.
My hands became colder with every page.
Crew members.
Young women.
Temporary assignments.
Special requests.
VIP cabins.
I looked at Lena.
“They weren’t random.””
She shook her head.
“No.””
She pulled out another folder.
“This is how they choose.””
I opened it.
A list.
Names.
Ages.
Positions.
Personal information.
Things nobody should have access to.
Then I saw Emma’s name.
My heart dropped.
Emma Carter.
Age: 22.
Position: Junior Cabin Steward.
Notes:
*Easily pressured. Family financial difficulties.*
I closed my eyes.
They weren’t just targeting people.
They were finding weaknesses.
A sound came from behind us.
The door closed.
Slowly.
We turned.
Victor Hale stood there.
The man in the gray uniform.
He looked at the files in my hand.
Then at Lena.
No anger.
No panic.
Just disappointment.
“You really made this difficult.””
I stepped between him and Lena.
“You kidnapped women.””
He tilted his head.
“That’s a very emotional way to describe a complicated business.””
My jaw tightened.
“Business?””
“Yes.””
He walked closer.
“Everything in the world is built on exchange.””
“You’re insane.””
He smiled.
“No. I’m realistic.””
Lena shouted:
“You locked me in that room!””
Victor looked at her.
“You misunderstood your role.””
Her face changed.
Like those words hurt more than an insult.
“My role?””
“Yes.””
He sighed.
“You were supposed to be grateful.””
I stared at him.
“For what?””
“For the opportunity.””
I almost laughed.
“Opportunity?””
Victor looked around the office.
“This ship gives people a better life.””
“No.””
My voice was steady.
“You use people.””
He looked at me.
“And yet you’re still here.””
The words bothered me.
Because he was right.
I was still here.
But not because he controlled me.
Because I chose to stay.
Victor stepped closer.
“You have two options, Ava.””
I didn’t move.
“What are they?””
“Give me the phone.””
“No.””
His expression barely changed.
“Then you become the next problem.””
Lena whispered:
“Ava…”
I ignored her.
“Where is Emma?””
Victor looked amused.
“You think I’m going to answer?””
“No.””
I looked at the files.
“I think you’re going to show me.””
His smile faded.
Just slightly.
Good.
I had found something.
A weakness.
“You’re confident.””
“I’m trained.””
He laughed.
“That’s why you’re dangerous.””
Then the lights suddenly went out.
Complete darkness.
Someone moved.
Fast.
I heard Lena gasp.
A struggle.
A body hitting the floor.
I reacted instantly.
I moved toward the sound.
But before I reached them, emergency lights turned on.
Red lights filled the room.
Victor was gone.
Lena was on the floor.
And the files were scattered everywhere.
I rushed to her.
“Are you okay?””
She nodded.
Then pointed.
“The folder.””
I looked.
One folder was missing.
Only one.
Emma Carter’s file.
My phone buzzed.
Another message.
Unknown number.
I opened it.
A photo appeared.
Emma.
Alive.
Sitting in a room somewhere below deck.
Her hands were tied.
But she was conscious.
Underneath the photo was a message.
*YOU HAVE ONE HOUR.*
Then another line appeared.
*BRING LENA BACK.*
I stared at the screen.
Lena saw it.
Her face went pale.
“No.””
I looked at her.
“What?””
She stepped backward.
“They don’t want me rescued.””
“Then what do they want?””
Her eyes filled with fear.
“They want me returned.””
A cold silence filled the room.
Because suddenly I understood.
Lena wasn’t just a victim.
She was evidence.
And someone was willing to destroy anyone who tried to protect her.
My phone buzzed again.
A final message appeared.
This time, it included a location.
A restricted area beneath the ship.
A place marked on the map as:
*THE CAPTAIN’S PRIVATE DECK.*
And below it:
May you like
*COME ALONE, AVA.*
*OR EMMA DISAPPEARS FOREVER.*
