On getting to my room, I threw myself on the bed, absorbing the warmth it gave, as of now, this is the only good thing on this damn boat.

It was still early, and I couldn't even sleep because I had chores to do in the kitchen.

Sighing, I sluggishly got off the bed and changed into another pair of uniforms. 

I took another glance at my reflection, and it was nothing to be proud of.

"I told you not to upset Mr Liam. Didn't I ?" The chief chef yelled at me the moment I stepped into the kitchen.

"Every other person has served him and had no issues with him, but you go in there and cause chaos, do you think if given the opportunity, you will be able to deal with his wrath? You promised to be in your best behavior when I hired you. I didn't expect you'd want to leave me jobless in the process."

"I'm sorry Chef, I won't make such a mistake again," I said, bringing my head down in embarrassment. He was right after all, everyone went in there and there was no issue. But my case is always different, my luck has never been good.

"Of course you won't, cause I won't even give you the chance to. From today henceforth, you aren't allowed to go anywhere near Mr Liam. If he's coming from the right, take the left, and if he's coming from the left, take the right. You are only allowed to work in the kitchen, and not anywhere you'd get to see him. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes Chef," that's exactly what I wanted, not having to see that horrible face of his.

"Good," he added, walking away. 

Everyone whispered, but I paid no attention to them. We are all here for the cash, that does not make them any better than I am. The only thing is they are willing to take shit, whereas I on the other hand give shit to whomever tries to throw one at me.

The morning passed soon enough, and soon it was time for dinner. I arranged the food on the tray and watched as one of my co-workers took it to the dining hall. 

Barely five minutes later, she returned," Chef..."

"Yes," the chief chef responded, "is there a problem with the food?" He asked, puzzled.

"Not at all Chef."

"Then..."

She hesitated a bit, before shooting a glance in my direction," Mr Liam requested Maya,"

"Me???" I blurted out immediately, "the fuck does he want with me?" I asked, infuriated. 

The room went dead silent.

Chef's brows furrowed, lips curling in disbelief. "Are you sure that's what he said?"

"Yes, Chef," she nodded quickly, "he was very clear. He asked for Maya specifically. Said he wouldn't eat unless she brought the tray."

I blinked, confused. Just this morning, this man looked like he wanted to drown me. Now, he's refusing to eat unless I serve him?

Chef gave me a hard look. "I told you to avoid him."

"With all due respect, Chef, I have no intention of going anywhere near that psycho," I said, folding my arms.

Chef exhaled, clearly torn between obeying the guest and protecting me. "You'll go, but you won't say a word. Drop the food, walk out. No drama. No comebacks. No eye contact. If he calls your name, pretend you didn't hear. If he breathes wrong, just walk faster."

I rolled my eyes. "Fantastic. Sounds like the beginning of a horror movie."

He shoved the tray into my hands before I could argue further. "Don't ruin this for me."

With a muttered curse under my breath, I made my way to the dining hall. My palms were sweaty against the silver handles. I took a deep breath at the door, squared my shoulders, and pushed it open.

Liam sat alone at the far end, one arm draped lazily on the chair, his phone in his other hand. He didn't look up.

I approached carefully, placing the tray in front of him without saying a word.

"That's all?" he asked.

His voice was calm and annoying. 

I straightened. "Yes." 

He leaned back, his eyes finally meeting mine. "You forgot the wine."

"Wine wasn't on the menu, but juice was, and that's exactly what is set at your front," At this point, I knew I was being too bold, but whoever doesn't respect someone doesn't deserve to be respected.

"Why are you pretending to be mad at me?" 

"Pretending?" I scoffed, "Don't be delusional to think I'd put in an act in front of you,"

"Well, don't think I didn't notice you've been avoiding me. One servant a day, that's how the kitchen routine works. You were supposed to bring in my lunch and dinner, but someone else did. What does that imply?" he paused waiting for my response.

"Let's see... could it be guilt?"He stood up, slow and deliberate. "Or fear? Or maybe you've started knowing your place after this morning's incident?"

I looked at him, contemplating whether to respond to him or walk away. One thing was for sure, he'd probably think his entire life through if I gave him a response, so I chose the latter.

I didn't answer, I just turned and left without looking back.

His footsteps followed mine. I picked up my pace, but he reached me just before I got to the door.

"Are you really ignoring me right now? It seems you're forgetting who runs things here" he said, his hand gripping my wrist.

The contact made me flinch.

"Get your hands off me," I said between clenched teeth.

"Make me..." he said with a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

I yanked my wrist back like it burned. "Touch me again, and I swear to God, I'll forget this is a five-star cruise and send this tray flying into your face."

His smirk dropped. For a moment, I saw the anger flicker in his eyes. Then masked with calmness seconds later, "You've got a mouth on you," he said, voice low. "Someone should've taught you how to use it better."

"I use it just fine," I snapped, then regretted it the second it came out. His brows lifted, slowly, as if he was calculating the many meanings behind that sentence.

"Well, talking ain't one, but maybe it'll do fine in sucking. I mean if you've never had a cock between your legs, you should have at least had one around your mouth." He said with a dirty smirk.

I turned sharply, not waiting for another word. I stormed through the doors, back into the safety of the kitchen, slamming the tray down harder than necessary.

"Whoa," my co-worker muttered. "What the hell happened?"

"Nothing," I said, brushing past her. "Absolutely nothing happened."

I hate him...

I hate him so much that I wish he'd drop dead any second. 

************************************

Later That Night – On the Upper Deck

I couldn't sleep, how could I? The chef had let me off early, probably to avoid another scene. Everyone kept glancing at me like I had just kicked a royal family member in the balls.

I needed air.

The yacht was quiet now, most guests probably tucked in silk sheets or drinking themselves stupid in the lounge. I crept up to the upper deck, hugging my hoodie tighter against the salty breeze.

I exhaled. For the first time since I got on this cursed ship, I felt like I could breathe.

Until I saw him.

Liam.

Standing at the edge of the deck, looking out at the water, his hands tucked into his trouser pockets like he hadn't just grabbed me and humiliated me an hour ago.

I turned on instinct, planning to sneak back inside, but his voice cut through the dark like a blade.

"You always run."

I froze.

He didn't look at me. "It's interesting. You bite hard, but you never stay to see if you draw blood."

"I didn't know this was a zoo exhibit," I said, keeping my back to him. "Forgive me for assuming I was allowed to walk freely."

"Careful," he warned, "too much defiance can make things... difficult for you."

I laughed with a bitter tone," Like they are any easier right now," I responded, rolling my eyes.

He walked up to me, and I took a step back instinctively, "You chose not to. If I'm correct, you're the only one who has issues with me, everyone else loves me."

For some reason, his statement sounded funny. I burst out in rolls of laughter," Love you?" I said laughing harder as I crashed into the railing of the yacht.

Before I could say anything else, I heard a metallic creak.

I glanced down.

The railing beside me shook, just slightly, but enough.

Lame noticed it too. "WAIT..."

But the words came too late.

SNAP.

The railing broke clean off, the world tilting beneath me.

I screamed as the sea rushed up to meet me.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhh..."

Wait...

Is this how I die?

On a fucking cruise ship in the middle of nowhere?

How is that fair?

I was slowly approaching the water, waiting for the big splash.

Just them, Arms. Strong. Cold. Wrapping around my wrist.

"Hold tight..." he yelled.

I looked down at the dark sea, with my legs dangling in the air.

"Do not look down, look at me." He shouted again," Give me your other hand"

I'm very certain my body was an empty shell right now, my brain wasn't functioning properly. All I could see was my death approaching me. How I would fall into the dark water, and probably drown to my death before help comes.

"Mayaaaaa," that was the first time he mentioned my name. Maybe that was what jolted me to my senses.

"Please don't let go," I said out loud.

"I won't, give me your hand."

I nodded, looking up at him, the fear in his eyes caught me off guard. Grabbing his second hand with my left hand, he pulled me up over the broken railing.

I landed hard against his chest, coughing, gasping, my heart pounding in my ears.

He held me tight, his breath shallow. "What the hell were you thinking? All you had to do was grab my hands, but of all the times, you had to let your thoughts wander."

"The better question is," I choked, "why the hell is the railing on a luxury cruise ship falling apart?"

His grip on me tightened for a beat before he pulled back. I became conscious of how close we were as well and pulled back, wrapping my arms around my chest as the cold breeze hit me. The warmth from his arms was long gone.

"Someone must have tampered with it, I'll talk to the technical staff" he muttered.

"What?" I asked, trembling.

He looked at me, jaw clenched. "Go to your room. And don't come up here alone again."

"I wasn't planning on it," I said, walking away as fast as my legs could allow, my heart still throbbing hard.

The moment I got to my room, I slammed the door, pacing back and forth in my tiny room.

Replaying everything that just happened in my head. I COULD HAVE DIED.

What if he wasn't there?

Nobody would have even heard me scream, and I probably would be long dead before anyone would notice I was missing.

I ran my hands through my hair, trying to calm my racing heart.

I spent the night replaying everything in my head.

The wind. The lurch of the ship. The cold metal under my palms, the dark sea...

If his hands hadn't grabbed mine... if he'd hesitated for a second... I would've been gone. Swept under the ocean like some discarded trash. Just a missing person report and a half-hearted search.

Why did he save me?

He hates me. He's made that clear from day one. So why the hell was I still breathing?

I don't know how long it was, but soon I fell asleep, with so many WHY'S and WHAT IF'S in my mind.

When morning came, I dragged myself to the kitchen, my body still running on adrenaline and confusion. I didn't say a word to anyone. What was I supposed to say? Oh hey, by the way, the cruise ship railing gave out last night and I almost died. No biggie.

I wasn't even supposed to be serving him today. But Liam, in his usual boss-from-hell energy, made sure I was the one carrying the tray of overpriced breakfast into the private dining hall.

If there were a 'B' in my name, I'm almost certain it'd signify BADLUCK.

The door was slightly open. I was about to knock when I heard his voice inside.

"I swear, I barely touched the railing, just leaned on it, and the thing snapped." He said so fast like he was trying to convince them he wasn't crazy. 

There was a pause, then someone laughed.

"Liam, how much did you drink last night?" 

"I wasn't drunk," Liam snapped. "I know what I saw, I was there. I didn't hallucinate or dream about it. The thing gave way. Someone could have died."

"Well, I walked past there this morning," another guy added. "Totally fine, the railing was intact, not even a scratch."

"You sure you didn't dream it?" Another voice teased.

"I wasn't alone," Liam said angrily.

I froze.

"Who were you with?"

There was a beat of silence. Without thinking, I pushed the door open. 

Everyone's attention turned towards me, but Liam's gaze was more lingering, like he knew I was there all along.

I pressed my lips together, face burning, and looked away.

He looked away from me, back at his friends," No one." He said, "Just me. I was alone. But I saw it break. I even went back this morning. It's like it never happened."

Another round of dismissive laughter followed, "Maybe you're losing it, man. You really do need to get laid, a woman warming up your bed will keep every hallucination away." Paul joked.

They all laughed, brushing it off like he was some rich idiot inventing drama.

I continued serving, pretending I hadn't heard a thing. His conversation with his friends has nothing to do with me. As long as MAYA wasn't mentioned. 

Liam stared at me, both in anger and confusion.

But what can I say? I'm as confused as he is. You don't imagine or hallucinate that kind of thing.

So either we are in a haunted ship, or someone is playing games.

*******************************************

Work dragged on. Everyone minding their own fucken business, and I felt like a ghost floating through someone else's life.

Later that day, I was walking through the hall with a couple of the other staff when we spotted Liam coming from the opposite direction.

As usual, everyone stopped.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Liam," we all chorused.

I tried to melt into the crowd and keep walking, but of course, he'd probably drop dead if he let me be.

"MAYA," he called out.

I stopped cold.

"Yes, Sir?" I asked, trying to be as professional as possible.

"I need you to fix something in my suite." He said, both hands behind his back, in a boss-like manner.

"Should I get someone else to come along?" I asked pointing to the other staff member with me.

Liam and no one around isn't a good combination.

"No," he cut in. "It's a one-person job." He said with a straight face.

Right. Of course it is.

The other staff exchanged glances but said nothing. I followed behind him, giving as much space as possible. My heart was pounding in my chest like it had last night.

I didn't trust him. Not even a little.

His room was spotless and absurdly large. Marble, glass, huge bed, roof to roof-to-ground mirror. Screaming money.

I stood waiting for him to instruct me, or better still, tell me why he needed me in his room.

"You didn't even thank me." He put both hands in the pockets of his shorts. The wind blowing his summer-flowered shirt and his hair.

I turned, arms crossed. "For what?"

"Saving your life." He said it like it was the most obvious thing.

"Well," I snapped, "maybe my life wouldn't have needed saving if your fancy ass cruise ship wasn't falling apart."

"So now it's my fault you almost died?" He asked, arching his brows.

"Is your ship... if it isn't your fault, whose fault is it?"

He tilted his head," You know," he started. "I just don't get it. We both saw it. The railing was broken. You almost fell. Everything was as clear as day. But this morning..." he shook his head. "Nothing. There was no scratch. It was like it never happened. How is that possible?" He asked running his hand through his hair in frustration.

"Maybe the ship repairs itself overnight," I said nonchalantly. 

He didn't smile. He looked frustrated. Confused. Angry, but not just at me.

"I went to the tech crew. Told them what happened. They said there was no damage, and that no one reported anything. Like I had imagined the whole thing.

I stayed silent. He moved closer.

"You didn't imagine it," I said quietly.

I'm not used to the confused and frustrated Liam, the only version of him I'm used to is the annoying and jerk version. But right now, I totally understand how he felt. Cause I feel the same way. I almost died, and there seemed to be no explanation or evidence for what happened.

He looked at me then, really looked. Like he was trying to figure me out.

"So why didn't you back me up there?"

"Well, because I don't feel like becoming the gossip of the day," I said. "You were with a maid. At midnight. On the top deck. With no one else around. You really want that rumor flying around?" I said arching my brows.

"I don't care what people think," he snapped.

"Yes, you do. Otherwise, you'd have said my name when they asked."

We stared at each other. The tension was thick enough to cut with a butter knife.

"Still," he said finally," I saved your life. You should at least say thank you."

"Fine," I muttered. "Thank you."

"You don't mean it." He said, crossing his arms around his chest.

"You're right. I don't." I said, rolling my eyes.

"Say it like you mean it Maya."

"Thank you," I repeated, sharper this time, "for not letting me die on your faulty, haunted cruise ship."

A muscle twitched in his jaw. Then, unexpectedly, he smiled.

Not the smug, arrogant grin I was used to. A real one. 

"You're insufferable," he murmured.

"Likewise," I said, rolling my eyes. "Why am I here?"

He smirked. "Since we're in the mood of gratitude, I've decided something. My suite lacks a personal maid."

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. I'm the host of this ship. Everyone else gets standard service. I deserve a premium."

"Then go hire someone. There are literally tons of maids on this cruise."

"Yes, tons of maids, caring for everyone. I want one just for me."

"Then pick anyone. Just not me. I wasn't hired to be a maid. I'm supposed to be in the kitchen, prepping food, not rubbing your royal feet."

I turned to leave, but he caught my wrist.

"You owe me your life," he said. "A simple thank you wouldn't kill you. You could've died last night if I weren't there."

"Oh, thank you for the 129th time," I snapped. "Or was that the thousandth? Maybe we should make it into a song. 'Liam saved Maya's life, Maya now owes Liam her soul.'" I sang angrily, pulling my wrist from his grip.

He laughed. "You know I don't mean it that way. I just enjoy seeing you irritated."

"Youuuuuu!!," I shouted and pointed my fingers at him angrily. 

But he ignored me and just walked up to the side table, picking up the telephone.

He dialed it, and I stood wondering who he was calling," Hello chief chef." 

The chef must have wondered why he called, because Liam's response was," No not at all, there's no issue." I just called to let you know that from today henceforth, Maya is relieved of her kitchen duties. She'll be working as my personal maid in my suite."

I rushed towards him in an attempt to pull the phone from his grip, "End the call, Liam!"

He raised a brow. " No, no... That's Mr. Liam to you. I hired you, remember? I'm your boss. Try using my name with some respect."

I wanted to scream. I could feel the rage boiling under my skin. He was unbearable.

I just want to grab him by the throat and watch him struggle for his dear life.

"Your work starts now," he added. "My entire body aches from hauling you off that railing. What do you eat? You're heavy as hell. And now I'm cold. So how about you run me a hot bath... followed by a good massage?"

I gritted my teeth. There was no way out. I couldn't afford to lose this job. Not now. So I marched to the bathroom like a war prisoner and started his bath.

I wish the chef had protested, but what could he have said?

'She's an important asset in the kitchen, she can't be relieved of her kitchen duties?' Or 'No Mr Liam I can't let you enslave my staff, she's my property or responsibility, not yours.'

Goddddddd!!!

Why is my luck so bad? I muttered angrily.

"Your bath is ready," I said as I walked out of the bathroom walking straight towards the door.

"Don't stand outside," he called. "You can wait here. Or... would you rather scrub my back? I could use an extra hand." He said with a smirk, that I wish I could just punch off his face.

I shot him a look. "You wish."

Without hesitating, I walked out the door, slamming the door behind me. 

I stood outside the door, fuming. I muttered a thousand curses under my breath. One day, I swear I'll poison his food and walk away whistling.

A bell rang, and at first, I stood still, unsure of what the bell was for.

Then it rang again. 

The fuck is wrong with him? Is he a child now playing with bells as toys? Where the fuck did he get a bell from by the way.

"Mayaaaaaaaa!!" His voice rang out louder than the bell.

I quickly rushed inside.

He stood in a towel, still wet, water trailing down the planes of his chest. I looked away immediately.

"Why weren't you responding? Did you not hear the bell?" 

I looked at him like he'd been smoking stuff that's making him spout nonsense," You seriously weren't using a bell to call out to me?" 

"What was I supposed to use? A whistle?" He asked, walking to the closet. 

I stood there, for the first time short of words to say.

"That was the best bath I've had in my life," he sighed. "You must have put in a lot of love in preparing it for me. I honestly didn't know you cared so much about me." He said grinning from ear to ear. 

I rolled my eyes, and unconsciously, they landed on his chest. 

"Don't look. Don't look." I muttered to myself. "He's the devil with good shoulders. That's all."

"Where's the oil?" he asked. "You brought the massage oil, right?"

"I...I don't usually do this," I stammered. "I don't know where you keep your...uh...stuff."

"Check the drawer beside the bed." he said, pointing in the direction of the drawer.

I nodded and walked towards the drawer.

I pulled it open and froze.

"Oh. My. God." I gulped hard.

Sex toys. All shapes. All colors. Some that defied physics.

"You're disgusting," I said, shutting the drawer like it had just burned me.

"You could've just grabbed the oil and ignored the rest," he said casually.

"Youuuu..." I yelled.

Totally ignoring me like I was just over reacting, he walked to the drawer, pulled out the oil and tossed it at me," Here," he said."My body won't massage itself. Come on, put those soft little hands to work."

God, give me strength.

I did it. I massaged his back, "Ahhhh, softer baby..." he moaned.

"Be quiet, someone might hear you and think we're doing something" 

"Mmm. Your hands are soft. Like you've never worked a day in your life. I can't help but moan."

"Just don't shout," I said angrily. But of course, he'd do the opposite.

"Ahhhhh,"

"Oooooh,"

"Harder,"

Staring at him lying flat on the surface, I thought that would be the perfect opportunity to just strangle the life out of him. But I didn't, I let a good opportunity go again.

At the end, I was too flushed and embarrassed to even walk out of the room.

By the end of the day, he had run me dry. "Maya, bring my food to my suite. Maya, my leg hurts, Massage it. Maya, fetch my robe. Maya, my back itches."

Maya, Maya, Maya, Maya, Maya.

Have never hated hearing my name so much until today.

When I finally collapsed on my bed that night, I felt like I'd been hit by a bus. I wanted to scream, cry, and slap him, maybe all at once.

How the hell did I get myself into this mess?