Piratas Del Caribe La Maldicion Del Perla Negra Anamaria -

“Don’t make me regret it,” she said.

That’s why she was here, on this stolen British warship, glaring at the back of Jack’s head as he paced the deck.

“You’re staring daggers again,” Will Turner muttered, tying off a rope. piratas del caribe la maldicion del perla negra anamaria

Jack’s grin faltered for the first time all week. “Anamaria! I was just coming to find you. Felt terrible about the Interceptor . And the sloop before that. And… was there a rowboat?”

“I’m calculating,” Anamaria replied, her voice a low rasp. “The exact angle I’d need to toss him overboard without the wind catching his ridiculous hat.” “Don’t make me regret it,” she said

“Miss me?” she called out as Jack climbed onto the shore.

It was the kind of night that swallowed ships whole. A low, fat moon hung over the Caribbean, and the Interceptor cut through the black water like a blade. Aboard, a young woman named Anamaria gripped the helm, her knuckles pale against the polished wood. The wind tasted of salt and opportunity. Jack’s grin faltered for the first time all week

She lit the fuse.

By dawn, the curse was broken. The gold was returned. Barbossa fell, finally mortal, with an apple rolling from his dead hand.

No , she thought, kicking for the surface. That bastard doesn’t get to win.