Karma Doesn’t Sleep The Revenge Queen Rises novel Chapter 712

Time dragged on painfully slow aboard the ship. The signal had been gone for ages, and Amelia had no way to reach her team. She hadn’t even brought her phone, knowing full well it would just be taken from her anyway.

Lost in these unfamiliar waters, Amelia couldn’t even tell which way was north. The only small mercy was that Tatum hadn’t posted anyone to guard her directly. Three times a day, Tara would show up at her door with a meal—usually just fish or shrimp. It wasn’t exactly gourmet, but it was enough to keep her going.

No matter how bland the food, Amelia finished every bite. She’d always believed that the more dangerous things got, the more she needed to steady herself—eat, sleep, save her strength for whatever came next.

Her room had a pretty big window, but Tatum clearly wasn’t worried about her making a run for it. Right outside, there were cameras and armed guards pacing by. Even lying on her bed, she could hear the heavy thud of their boots.

She kept wondering—was she the only hostage on this ship? What exactly did Tatum want with her?

Tara’s room was right next door, and the walls were so thin that Tara could hear just about everything. Every time Amelia so much as coughed or shifted in bed, Tara would be knocking, looking all anxious.

“Ms. Sadinton, are you okay? If I don’t take good care of you, Tatum is going to be furious.”

Amelia couldn’t even find the words to respond. This wasn’t how you treated a hostage—it was more like she was some pampered guest.

She finally asked, “Tara, why does Tatum care so much about me? What am I to him?”

Why would he trade over three hundred hostages for her, then turn around and treat her like royalty? It made no sense.

“I really don’t know,” Tara said, looking helpless. “All I was told is to look after you, Ms. Sadinton.”

Amelia frowned, thinking. What made her so special? If it was about her work, there were other experts among the hostages—Greg Robert, for one, and a handful of other top minds. Anything she could do, they probably could too.

“Can I see Tatum?” she tried.

Tara looked uncomfortable. “Sorry, Ms. Sadinton. Unless Tatum asks for you, you’re only allowed on this floor.”

So that was that.

It was stifling and hot up on deck, the air thick with salty humidity. Amelia didn’t feel like braving it. She spent the day in her room, grateful for one thing—her gun was still hidden on her. That alone gave her a fragile sense of security.

When night fell, Amelia sat by the window, staring out at the endless darkness. Her mind was a mess of worries. She thought about Timmy and Penny—were her babies eating well? Did they miss her?

Then her thoughts drifted to Ryan. Was he okay? Was he in pain?

Tavon had promised to get her the rare herb she needed. If she made it back, she’d mix the medicine just like the old book described. The recipe claimed it could mend bones and restore blood. Maybe before, she would’ve laughed it off. But now? She’d take any hope she could get if it meant saving Ryan.

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