Chapter 506
Morwen suppressed her frustration, forcing a smile. "Originally, today's ball was to have a costume theme," she said, "but I didn't want to put everyone to that trouble. So, it's a fun masquerade ball instead. Here are some masks; please choose one."
As Morwen Xanthus finished speaking, a masked maid approached with a tray laden with masks of various styles and shapes.
"What's she up to now?" Tiffany mused, amused, but still selected a dark purple mask that seemed mysterious and alluring. Jeremy chose a matching mask, his expression impassive. He seemed to mirror Tiffany's every move.
Morwen felt a pang of jealousy. She didn't understand what made Tiffany so special that men were always drawn to her. First Richard, and now this man, whose appearance and bearing suggested he was no ordinary person.
"Tiffany is so shameless! Flirting with anyone she meets!" Morwen sneered inwardly, then turned to greet other guests.
The yacht was large, filled with lively music and dancing. The rich aroma of wine was both intoxicating and, to Tiffany, slightly boring. She stifled a yawn. She hadn't slept well, worrying about Victor all night. Drowsiness overwhelmed her, and she stood, saying, "I'll take a walk to shake off this sleepiness."
Jeremy started to follow, but Tiffany's look stopped him. He sat back down.
Tiffany left the ballroom and headed towards the yacht's stern. The first floor housed the kitchen, the second the dining room, and the third the ballroom she'd just left. Her drowsiness began to fade as she raised her eyebrows.
Remembering Morwen's gasoline barrels and remote explosives at Moonlit Pier, Tiffany deduced that Morwen would employ similar tactics this time. The first three floors seemed normal; the lower deck was the only likely place for explosives.
She continued walking. As she reached the stairs, a maid hurried over to stop her. "The ballroom is on the third floor. Below is the storage room. It's dirty, Miss Kelly; you shouldn't go down there and soil your dress."
This might have worked on other young ladies concerned with appearances. The storage deck held supplies, meats, and other odds and ends—certainly not a place a guest would want to visit.
Tiffany raised an eyebrow and continued walking.
The maid panicked, looking for help, but before she could call out, Tiffany struck her, knocking her unconscious. She descended to the storeroom.
Even from the doorway, the strong smell of gasoline was evident. She stepped inside. Rows upon rows of tightly sealed gasoline barrels filled the warehouse; she counted approximately twenty. That was enough to engulf the yacht in flames. A fire would cause chaos; by then, the yacht would be in the middle of the river, making jumping overboard fatal. In the ensuing pandemonium, Morwen could easily kill her, making it appear accidental.
Tiffany's lips curled into a mocking smile. She unsheathed a switchblade and punctured one barrel, spilling gasoline onto the floorboards and into the river. She continued, puncturing all but the last barrel—a small courtesy to spare Morwen further distress.
The air was heavy with the smell of gasoline. Tiffany searched the yacht for the remote-controlled explosives but found none.
"Did Morwen not have time to set them up?" she wondered, frowning. Returning to the first floor, she saw the unconscious maid at the foot of the stairs. She nudged her. "Hey, wake up."
The maid groggily opened her eyes. Recognizing Tiffany, she remembered what had happened and blocked the stairs. "Miss Kelly, you can't go into the storage room!"
"Okay," Tiffany said, smiling innocently and nodding. She returned to the ballroom.
The maid, puzzled, rubbed her neck. She couldn't remember fainting, dismissing the oddity.
Back in the ballroom, Tiffany whispered to Jeremy, "Is there a bomb on this yacht?"
"I'm not sure," Jeremy replied. "She arranged this cruise at short notice. Many people were setting it up. My team observed for a while, but we still don't know."
"Then there probably isn't one," Tiffany concluded.
"You checked?" Jeremy asked.
"Yes, I did a thorough search of the storage room and every corner. Besides the gasoline I tampered with, there's nothing dangerous," Tiffany said.
Jeremy caught a faint scent of gasoline on her, quickly dispersed by the evening breeze.
"What's your plan next?" Jeremy asked.
"Take things as they come," Tiffany replied with a relaxed smile. She had come to follow fate, removing dangers beforehand, hoping to avoid unintentionally endangering Richard, even if the original course remained unaltered.
Chapter 506
Jeremy nodded, saying nothing. Soothing music filled the hall as Morwen, graceful and elegant, danced, attracting admiring glances.
After her dance, Morwen approached Jeremy. "You're Mr. Cooper, aren't you? May I have this dance?"
Who could refuse such a beautiful woman? Jeremy could. "No, thank you. I don't dance with unattractive women."
"Unattractive? Her? Unattractive?" Morwen thought, her smile almost faltering. "Damn it! This man is so annoying! How dare he call me unattractive?" Morwen gritted her teeth. "Miss Kelly, you dance, don't you? Show us what you've got."