The salty wind tore at your clothes as you struggled against the ropes that bound your wrists. Waves crashed against the sides of the ship, and somewhere above the chaos, a commanding voice cut through the storm.

“Steady, men! And keep your prisoner in line!”

You looked up, squinting through the spray, and your eyes landed on her—Marie Avgeropoulos. Her presence was impossible to ignore: hair whipping in the wind, eyes sharp as cutlasses, and a grin that could both terrify and mesmerize.

“You,” she said, voice low and dangerous, “thought you could cross the wrong ship?”

“I… I didn’t mean—” you began, but she silenced you with a flick of her hand.

“Words won’t save you here,” she said, stepping closer, the boots on her deck creaking with authority. “But… maybe actions could.”

And then, just as you braced for punishment, she tossed you a knife and winked. “Let’s see if you can keep up. You might just earn your freedom—or… something more.”