Now that the fight was finally starting, the atmosphere on the ship shifted. The ocean breeze cooled, the lighting narrowed upon the black-and-white tiles, and every spectator seemed to lean forward at the same exact moment.
Darius and Jett had already taken their seats, raised above everyone else on a slightly elevated platform. It wasn't a throne, but it certainly felt like one. A handful of higher-ranking VIP guests sat near them, people whose attire and jewelry screamed wealth and influence.
It was the sort of position Chad would have rushed toward without hesitation, believing every scrap of preferential treatment was proof of his own importance. Max could imagine him sitting right up there, drinking expensive wine, completely unaware of the trap.
Sitting in two large, white leather chairs that looked like miniature couches, Darius and Jett relaxed back with open smiles. They seemed perfectly at ease, more excited than concerned about the fight unfolding below.
