Simone turned up the volume. “This is incredible, baby,” the woman said, looking around the polished deck. “You really own all this?” Derek laughed. That same laugh Simone used to love. The whole fleet. Wait until you see the master suite. Simone’s jaw tightened. The master suite. The one she designed herself after visiting yacht shows in Monaco and Dubai.
The one with the imported Italian marble and the custom skylight above the bed. She watched as Derek pulled the woman closer, kissing her right there on the deck. The captain, Miguel, stood at a respectful distance near the helm, clearly uncomfortable. He had worked for Simone for 5 years. He knew exactly who Dererick was married to. “Mr.
Carter,” Miguel said carefully. “Shall I show you and your guests to your accommodations?” “The honeymoon package?” Derek said, grinning. “Nothing but the best for my lady.” The woman giggled. “Honeymoon package, Derek, you are too much.” Simone paused the video. The woman’s face was frozen on the screen, caught midlife.
She looked young, maybe late 20s, pretty in an obvious way. Simone zoomed in on her left hand. No ring, no tan line, no sign she had any idea Dererick was married. Or maybe she did know. Maybe she did not care. Simone sat back in her leather chair, the one positioned in front of the wall of monitors that tracked all 12 vessels in her fleet.
This office, tucked away in the administrative building of Carter Maritime Group, was her sanctuary. No one came here without permission. Not her employees, not her friends, and definitely not Dererick, who thought she just managed some boat rentals as a hobby. He had no idea she owned the entire operation. He thought she worked for someone else.
She let him believe that because it made him feel superior. And for 7 years, she convinced herself that a small lie was worth keeping the peace. She had been a fool. Her cell phone bust. A text from Tasha, her best friend since college. Lunch tomorrow. You have been dodging me for 2 weeks. Simone stared at the message.
Two weeks ago, she noticed Dererick started working late more often, started putting passwords on his phone, started picking fights over nothing so he could storm out of the house. She suspected she hired a private investigator. And 3 days ago, Jordan Wells handed her a folder full of proof. Hotel receipts, restaurant charges, apartment rental agreements for a place in the city Derrick claimed was a temporary office space.
But seeing it on her own security footage was different. This was her yacht, her business, her name on the hull of that ship. Dererick had brought his mistress onto Simone’s own property and pretended to own it. She texted Tasha back. Tomorrow works. I have news. Simone turned back to the monitors. The Azure Dream was still at sea, scheduled to return to the marina at 8:00 tonight.
