PART 1: THE DRUGGED HONEYMOON
The saltwater breeze sweeping over the turquoise waves should have felt like absolute freedom. Instead, by the third day of my Caribbean honeymoon with Lucas Abernathy, it felt like an invisible trap closing tightly around my throat.
We were sailing on a luxurious, three-tiered megayacht, which was a lavish wedding present from my loving father. My dad had built an international logistics empire from scratch through decades of sacrifice, and he always told me that every single penny would be mine. “As long as you are happy, Penelope, my whole life has purpose,” he whispered on my wedding morning. Lucas had stood beside us in his pristine tuxedo, flashing his warm, reassuring smile while swearing to protect me forever.
