Shane Prescott's lean fingers gripped the yacht's steering wheel with practiced ease.

His hawk-like gaze remained fixed on the churning ocean ahead.

The throttle pushed to maximum, the vessel cut through waves like an arrow released from its bow.

The struggling figure behind them shrank to a mere speck before vanishing completely.

"Mr. Prescott, your skills are professional-grade!" the helmsman exclaimed. "Like you've sailed your whole life."

A cold smirk curled Shane's lips.

Three months of intensive training had prepared him for this moment.

The surveillance monitor flickered with a glimpse of the now-deserted deck.

"Those waves look..." the helmsman hesitated.

Shane released the wheel and strode away.

In his private cabin, he raised binoculars to his eyes.

A disheveled figure flailed desperately in the water.

Adrian Sullivan's designer suit clung to him like a second skin, his expensive shoes long gone.

He thrashed like a drowning mongrel.

"Fascinating," Shane murmured.

Through the lenses, seagull droppings matted Adrian's hair.

His curses to the heavens were cut short as a wave forced saltwater down his throat.

A jagged outcrop became his last hope.

Clutching the rocks like a dying crab, Adrian gasped for breath.

His phone lay somewhere on the ocean floor, eliminating any chance of rescue.

"Useless! All of you!"

The wind snatched his screams away.

His grandfather's wisdom surfaced: where gulls gather, rocks await.

Survival instinct drove him toward the circling birds.

Chaos erupted aboard the yacht.

"Mr. Sullivan is missing!"

Bodyguards tore through every compartment in panic.

Security footage showed Adrian's last appearance on deck.

"Turn this ship around!" Leonard Laurent bellowed.

Speedboats carved white scars across the dark water.

The search continued until sunset.

They found Adrian sprawled across the rocks like discarded rags.

"Shane Prescott..." the helmsman confessed under interrogation.

Venom flashed in Adrian's eyes.

With trembling hands, he dialed Victor Sullivan.

"Father, I almost died today."

The line remained silent for agonizing seconds.

"Evidence?" Victor finally demanded.

Adrian's grip threatened to crush the phone.

A terrible realization dawned.

"You knew."

The howling wind couldn't drown his hatred.

"Every moment was premeditated!" he screamed into the receiver. "He wanted me dead!"

The disconnected call left bystanders shuddering at Adrian's chilling smile.

Thirty years of paternal devotion, undone by a bastard's return.

Saltwater dried on his cheeks, but nothing could erase the murder in his eyes.