Captain Nicholas Knight had issued a ship-wide order: "All crew to report to the bridge for an emergency meeting."
And when the captain speaks, you move—especially when it follows a wild night involving a man-overboard or 'woman' rescue.
Everyone rushed to the bridge, their pace fueled not only by discipline but by pure curiosity.
Whispers and chuckles filled the bridge like smoke before a fire.
"Bet the captain hasn't gotten laid in months," one crew member snickered. "The moment he saw a half-drowned beauty, his cock took over navigation and launched him off the deck!"
The group burst into laughter.
"He hauled her straight to his cabin. Man didn't even hesitate," another chimed in. "I'd bet my paycheck he already scored."
"Or maybe," said a third crew member with a devilish grin, "he called off the rescue alert so he could keep her all to himself until we reach port."
The laughter escalated until a sharp double throat-clear cut through the noise like a blade.
*EHEM. EHEM.*
The bridge fell into sudden silence as Chief Officer Steven Graham stepped in, eyes narrowed, jaw tight. The laughter died like a candle in the wind.
Every man straightened like a snapped rope.
Steven, unlike Nick, commanded a different kind of respect.
While Nick had the authority of the captain's chair and the Knight name behind it, Steven had earned his place through sheer grit and loyalty.
And everyone aboard knew: if Steven was disappointed in you, you had better start digging your own disciplinary grave.
"Tell me," Steven said, voice low and dangerous, "is this how professionals talk about their commanding officers? Behind their backs? Like drunk idiots on shore leave, gossiping like street-corner lowlifes?"
No one dared respond. Heads lowered. Boots suddenly found the floor incredibly fascinating.
Steven clicked his tongue. "If you can't speak with decency, don't speak at all."
Just then, the bridge doors hissed open.
Nick entered.
His gaze swept across the crew, quiet and stiff-backed. The tension in the air told him everything he needed to know. His eyes met Steven's for a beat, a silent exchange of gratitude. Steven gave a subtle nod. Crisis, at least this one, averted.
Though Nicholas Knight wasn't one to care what people thought of him, he did care about order and loyalty. He wasn't just here to play captain because of his last name.
He'd worked hard for this seat. And whatever storm was brewing around Georgia Lewis… he had no intention of letting it rock his ship.
"Alright," he said, stepping forward with steely calm, "let's begin…"
Nick stood at the front of the bridge like a commander about to send his troops into battle, except this battle wasn't one of steel or sea, but of silence.
He handed each crew member a folded sheet of paper. The moment they opened it, a ripple of confusion and disbelief swept through the room. Murmurs halted mid-breath. Jaws slackened. Eyes flicked from the document to their captain like he'd just declared mutiny on protocol itself.
It was a Non-Disclosure Agreement.
"I trust you can all read," Nick began, his tone clipped and cold.
"That right there? It's your new best friend. That document says the man-overboard rescue from last night never happened. You didn't see any humans in the water.
You didn't rescue anyone. You saw a trash. A mannequin. A fucking inflatable flamingo for all I care. You saw nothing. You will say nothing."
Even Steven blinked and furrowed his brow, then quickly masked it behind a neutral facade. His fingers tightened around the paper, but he said nothing... yet.
Nick paced slowly in front of them, every bootstep landing with quiet finality. "If you're worried about getting in trouble, don't be. This decision is mine. Mine alone. I'll carry the weight of it. If this ever blows up, I'm the only one who burns. That's why I want you to sign it, for your own protection."
He stopped and met their eyes, one by one, his expression hard. "Do you understand?"
No one answered. But then the chief engineer cleared his throat and raised a hand hesitantly. Nick nodded.
"I'm sorry, Captain… but—" The man hesitated, then gathered the courage to continue. "With all due respect, this seems… extreme. You're risking your entire career over a woman you don't even know. Isn't this maybe a bit reckless?"
The room tensed, eyes darting between the captain and the engineer.
Nick's jaw tightened for a moment before he spoke. "Her name is Georgia."
His voice softened, but only slightly. "She's not a threat to this ship or to anyone here. What she is… is in a very bad situation. And she asked for time. Just time to figure things out."
He paused and scanned the room.
"I don't know the full story yet. But I know fear when I see it. Real fear. And I won't sit back and hand someone over to it."
Then he added, more quietly but no less firmly, "Let's just say this is a life-or-death situation. But you're all safe. We're safe. And the only way we stay that way is if no one talks."
No one said a word. No one needed to.
Nick let the silence linger for a moment, then gave a single nod. Everyone quickly grabbed a pen and signed the NDA.
"If everyone is done signing, then his meeting is dismissed. Keep your heads down and your mouths shut. Go back to your post or whatever your schedule is."
And with that, he turned and walked out, the weight of command pressed firmly on his shoulders, but he was determined to help Georgia just because of his own curiosity.
Steven was quick to follow, his boots striking the floor with urgency. "Nick, wait. We need to talk—now."
Nick raised a hand without turning. "Hold that thought."
His eyes scanned the crowd of crew members dispersing from the bridge, locking on to Evelyn just as she was about to step out. "Evelyn," he called out.
She turned, raising a curious brow.
"Can you escort Georgia back to my cabin once she's done eating?" Nick asked. "It's time we had a proper talk, one without flying pillows and death punches. I'll have the Chief with me. Maybe she'll keep the tantrums to a minimum this time."
Evelyn smirked, her smile bordering on devilish. "Tantrums, huh? Is that what you call it? I bet you like that kind of tantrum."
Nick put both of his hands on his waist and said with furrowed brows, "Evelyn, I'm serious."
Evelyn chuckled upon seeing the frustrations in Nick's eyes. "Aye, aye, Captain. I'll make sure the princess arrives safe and sound," she uttered with a playful salute.
Nick rolled his eyes at her tone but didn't argue.
Steven, however, was watching them closely, his frown deepening. Something about the exchange didn't sit right with him. Nick's words were curt and professional, but Evelyn's expression? That smug glint in her eyes? It didn't match the situation.