Temptations

ɎChapter♠SixɎ

quick and short but that's how this book is gonna be. Chapter wise. I think it's gonna be pretty long as a whole

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 The wind flowed through her hair and the scent of salt water filled her nose. Out in the open sea, was where she belonged. With one hand on the helm and the other on her hip, steering her ship. Even as a little girl, her sense of location and understanding of the currents always made her the best Captain, along with her brutal and callous personality.

But now she wasn't on a ship. She had stayed back on Pirate's Gulf, hidden in her office in her home. Everyone knew Gaspar lived in the large house on the back hill of the Gulf. It's red walls matched the wood on her ship; a rich, dark red color similar to that of blood, thus her name The Crimson Queen. Whoever encountered her would enrich the color further, and not live to see the next day.

Her ship was deemed haunted. A ship feared even by the Pirates she protected. No one - other than her crew - would step foot on it, and were right not to. Uninvited guests have proven to be nothing but a nuisance and always led to their being hung.

The ocean breeze flowed through the open window, brushing her hair back. The water called to her, the wind ready to fill her sails. But she had to find a new trader to set onto Roger's old course. His death, though necessary, was a dent in her pockets, a threat to her system. The gap needed filling, and quickly.

So she looked through files, searching for the right trader. Someone easily controlled but with enough ambition to get the job done. There were old traders and young traders. Spanish, Italian, Portuguese, etc. All different and unacceptable in their own way. One was too greedy, rumored to have killed his partner simply because he made an extra shilling than him. Another was too loose, throwing away his earnings at every turn, near bankrupt.

Finally, on the bottom of the stack, was one last man. Foster Moreau; 27 years old, someone new to the world of trade, yet with multiple connections. With a description of blonde, shoulder length hair and dark brown eyes, he would definitely be a charmer amongst the harlots, an advantage in his field. He would do just fine.

"Jack." She called. Her right hand appeared from her entrance, his large bulky chest puffed out as he walked to her desk. His bald head shinned in the sunlight, as she looked up at his tall figure. "Call for a Foster Moreau. He should be in the trade district."

"Aye, should I tell him what for?"

"Tell him Gaspar wishes to do business with him." The smirk gracing her lips was all Jack needed to see to understand which Gaspar will be appearing today; the one he found most amusing. With a nod, he left the room and left her to get ready.