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?

I was dead on my feet.

After a full day of playing "personal maid" to Lord Arrogant Himself, I could barely lift my legs as I lay on my bed. Every muscle in my body ached. My arms, my back, even my eyelids feel heavy. 

But worse than the physical exhaustion was how humiliated I felt.

"Who the hell ends up a personal maid in the middle of the damn ocean?" I said, screaming into my pillow.

I didn't even take off my shoes. I just lay there, face in the pillow, muttering every curse I could think of. Liam had made sure my entire day was one long reel of humiliation: draw his bath, stand outside, serve his food, massage his stupid rich-boy shoulders, run back and forth like a servant from a soap opera.

I swore, if I had one ounce of magic, I'd teleport his smug self into a shark's mouth.

The next morning, I thought maybe, just maybe, I could avoid him. I tried sneaking through the crew corridor, eyes darting left and right like I was evading a warlord. 

It didn't work. He sent a staff member to fetch me like I was his little pet. No escape.

But then came the announcement: "Due to a minor atmospheric disturbance, guests are advised to remain indoors this evening. A storm warning has been issued."

Finally, A storm. Maybe the universe was on my side for once.

Nope.

The next announcement came thirty minutes later: "To lighten the mood during the storm, tonight's event will be a themed party in the main ballroom. Attendance is optional but encouraged."

I blinked.

They wanted to throw a party... during a storm?

Of course, rich people.

I got dressed anyway. Not because I wanted to party, but because Liam would have dragged me there either way. I wasn't needed in the kitchen, and I can't stay in my room either.

I wore a casual blue gown, not my regular uniform, nothing unique about the gown. 

I walked into the ballroom, and I could feel eyes on me from every angle. Not admiration. No, this was the kind of attention you get when people think they own you, or rather the 'You don't belong here' look. 

And Liam? Well, he was in his element.

Sitting on a velvet couch like he owned the world, drink in hand, surrounded by people laughing too hard at his not-so-funny jokes. He looked up, spotted me, and smiled that wicked little smile like he already had a new game planned.

I hated that smile.

"Come here, Maya," he called, loud enough for nearby guests to hear.

I hesitated. His tone said 'come here like a good girl,' and that tone? Oh, it did something to my temper.

I walked over, arms crossed. "Yes, sir?"

"Could you bring me another drink? You're technically still on duty, aren't you?"

People turned to look. I felt their judgment, the way they acknowledged his action. Like they're telling him, 'that's right Liam, put her in her place'.

He was humiliating me again, and he knew it.

"I'm not a waitress," I said, keeping my voice even. "I'm also not your maid anymore, if we're going by hourly contracts. This is a party, not your personal circus."

The air in the room shifted. Everyone went "Ooh" like middle schoolers watching a cafeteria fight.

Liam's eyes darkened. He stood slowly, taking a step toward me, towering, but I didn't budge. If I was going down, I was going down swinging.

"You don't get to talk to me like that," he hissed. "I'm your employer."

"And I'm a human being," I snapped. "The fact that you signed a paycheck doesn't mean you get to parade me like some toy in front of your little yacht club."

His jaw tightened. "Come with me. Now." He said.

I didn't move. I was still riding the high of calling him out. But the way he clenched his glass, like it might shatter in his palm, made me think twice.

I took a step forward, but before I could move further, he pulled me by the wrist and dragged me out of the ballroom. 

Dragging me back to his suite, he pushed me inside, slammed the door, and turned to face me.

"What the hell was that?" he snapped.

"What? You mean standing up for myself?" I shot back. "You humiliated me in front of everyone. Again. What did you expect me to do, curtsey?"

"I expect a little respect," he growled.

"And I expect basic human decency, but hey, we can't all get what we want. You give respect, you get one as well."

Before he could fire back, the ship jerked.

Not just a little sway. A full-on crack followed by a violent jolt that sent both of us stumbling. His lamp fell off the table. I heard a glass shatter in the distance.

"What the heck!!" He said, running to the balcony of his room.

The intercom blared: "All passengers are to return to their cabins immediately. We've experienced a mechanical issue. Please remain calm."

Another jolt occurred. This time stronger.

Liam pulled out his phone and dialed furiously. "Get someone to my suite now. I want a full update."

He hung up and looked at me like I should be impressed.

I sat on the bed, shaking both my legs from anxiety. Soon the bed was becoming uncomfortable, so I walked to the balcony to see what was going on.

The ship was already sinking.

I could hear screams and yelling from a distance.

I paced the room. "Where are your 'people' now, huh?"

"They'll come."

"No, Liam. They won't." I pointed to the now-flooded hallway just outside the door. "Everyone's trying to save themselves. No one's coming to rescue your self-absorbed ass."

"I paid them," he said. "They're contractually obligated."

I laughed bitterly. "Right. Because contracts matter when the ship is sinking. You really think you own everyone don't you?" I scoffed.

Minutes passed. Water began creeping under the door.

He was rich, and I had a little hope someone would actually come, even though I said otherwise. 

But more time passed and no one showed up.

Five minutes.

Ten.

I turned to him. "Still think they're coming?"

He hesitated.

"That's what I thought," I snapped. "You can drown here with your pride, or we can both get the hell out of here and save ourselves."

I stood still, I could see the panic in his eyes. He didn't move, he just looked at the phone, like he was waiting for it to ring. Or maybe someone was going to jump out of it and save him.

I shook my head, and walked to his closet, pulled out a coat jacket, draped it around the summer gown I have on, and ran out.

I didn't wait for him again. Obviously, no one is coming.

The halls were in chaos, passengers screaming, alarms blaring, and staff nowhere to be found. By the time I got to the lifeboat deck, it was too late. The last raft had already pulled away, all the rich folks gone. Just workers like me left.

I ran to where the life jackets were kept, but there were no more life jackets. No crew. Just me. Alone.

Well, almost.

I turned back, half-running toward the nearest stairwell, when I spotted Liam. 

He had finally left his suite, but rather than jumping into the water before the ship finally sank, he was clinging to the side railing like a damn lifeline.

"What the hell are you doing?" I shouted over the wind and rain. "Let go and jump!"

"I can't!" he shouted back. 

"Why? You'd go down with the ship if you don't jump off it." I yelled back.

"I...I can't swim!"

I stopped cold.

I ran towards him, "You're kidding me."

He shook his head, terrified.

"You're rich, on a boat in the middle of the ocean, and you never learned how to swim?!"

"I didn't think I'd need to!"

I cursed under my breath. "Unbelievable."

I turned to go.

The ship shook again, throwing him off the railing.

I fell to the floor, but got up quickly after, turning around to leave.

Then I stopped.

I turned to look at him, he was now at the corner of the room, legs to his chest. Terrified like a fish.

My heart screamed to leave him. My brain screamed to run. But something else... something dumber... told me to go back.

So I did.

"Okay," I said, panting, grabbing his arm. "Then hold onto me. And for God's sake, paddle or fake it. Just don't drag me down. Or I'll kill you before the water does."

He didn't answer. Just nodded.

God, I'm a fool. What are we? Jack and Rose from Titanic?

I held his hand, running to the edge of the ship, "Jump," I yelled. 

He hesitated for a split second, but my grip around him was tighter, I pulled him, and we both jumped into the water together.

SPLASHHH......