The clear glass table on the luxury yacht sparkled under the warm sun, surrounded by four wealthy guests sipping expensive white wine. Damien stood near the head of the table in his crisp white suit, his eyes scanning the deck with growing tension.
Damien: Where's my mother?
Evelyn: She wanted privacy, Damien. She said she had a headache and went below deck.
Damien stared at Evelyn, watching her dab her lips with a cloth napkin. Her calm voice did not match the restless flick of her eyes.
Damien: She wouldn't just leave lunch without saying anything to me.
Julian: Sit down, man. You're making everyone uncomfortable.
Damien: I'm asking a simple question, Julian.
Evelyn: And I gave you a simple answer. Eat your meal.
Damien turned away without another word. He hurried down the narrow, white corridor, his heart pounding in his chest. At the end of the hallway, he pulled open a heavy metal hatch leading deep into the ship's lower level.
The air grew hot and smelled heavily of oil. Red emergency lights flickered against dark pipes. Huddled on the steel floor of the engine room was his mother, holding a small plastic cup with shaking hands.
Eleanor: Damien...
Damien: Mom! What happened to you?! Who put you down here?
Eleanor: Don't speak too loud... they locked the hatch from the outside.
Damien unhooked his handheld radio, his thumb pressing the talk button as his face turned pale with fury.
Damien: Captain, lock the bridge right now. Call the Coast Guard immediately.
Captain: Sir? What's going on down there?
Damien: My stepmother just locked my mother near the engines, and no one is leaving this boat until I get answers.