Chapter 135
He paused, then stated clearly, "I can offer assets in exchange. The Smith Family owns three international shipping routes with annual revenues exceeding five hundred million. I can transfer the operating rights of one route to Nightfall. Permanently."
Uri's breathing stilled for a moment.
Three international shipping routes—those were one of the Smith Family's lifelines. Annual revenues exceeding five hundred million, with profits even more staggering.
Jacob's willingness to trade one of them for leads on Gray's death showed sincerity enough to move anyone.
Uri's pupils contracted almost imperceptibly, but the expression on his face remained calm as still water.
"Mr. Smith is truly generous." He lifted his wine glass and took a small sip. "However, I cannot give you an answer on this matter at the moment."
Jacob's brow furrowed slightly. "Why not?"
Uri set down his glass and looked directly into his eyes. "Mr. Smith should understand Nightfall's rules. Once an item is sold, it becomes the organization's property. How to handle it requires internal discussion. I alone cannot make this decision."
This was the truth. Although Uri held an extremely high position in Nightfall, such a major decision indeed required Noel—the real Elizabeth—to make the final call.
Of course, outsiders like Jacob wouldn't know this, so Uri could spin whatever story he wanted.
Jacob fell silent for a few seconds, then slowly nodded. "I understand. How long will Mr. Noah need?"
"Three days." Uri replied. "Three days from now, regardless of the outcome, I will give Mr. Smith a definitive answer."
Jacob nodded slightly, accepting this timeframe. He raised his glass toward Uri. "Then I'll await Mr. Noah's good news."
Uri raised his glass in response.
Both men drained their glasses, and the atmosphere seemed to ease somewhat.
But Jacob's gaze never left Uri. He set down his glass and suddenly spoke again, "Mr. Noah, I have one more question."
Uri made a gesture inviting him to proceed.
"At tonight's auction, the woman in the silver mask beside you," Jacob's eyes sharpened, "who is she?"
Uri's heartbeat quickened slightly, but his expression showed no change. He had anticipated that, with Jacob's perceptiveness, he couldn't possibly be unaware of Elizabeth. That silhouette, that bearing—Jacob must have noticed something.
"Is Mr. Smith interested in my companion?" Uri's tone carried a hint of playfulness, as if teasing a man attracted by beauty.
But Jacob's eyes turned cold, his tone carrying obvious rejection and disgust. "No. I just found her silhouette somewhat familiar."
Uri's heart sank. Jacob was indeed suspicious!
He had to dispel Jacob's doubts, or Elizabeth's identity might be exposed.
A bold idea flashed through his mind.
He suddenly smiled, that smile carrying the kind of suggestive undertone only men understood. "Mr. Smith has excellent taste. My companion is indeed a rare beauty. Her figure, her bearing—both top-tier. If Mr. Smith is interested..."
He paused, lowering his voice with an almost transactional tone, "Tonight, I could send her to Mr. Smith's room."
Jacob's expression changed instantly.
It was a look mixed with disgust, repulsion, and even faint anger. His brow furrowed tightly, a cold revulsion flashing in his eyes.
"That won't be necessary." His voice was cold as ice, each word deliberate. "I'm not that kind of man."
He stood up, looking down at Uri from his height, his tone carrying a hint of warning, "Mr. Noah, I have a fiancée. Very soon will be our official wedding day. I have no interest in other women. And I hope Mr. Noah won't make jokes like this."
Uri quickly stood, his expression showing just the right amount of apology, "I was presumptuous. Please don't take offense, Mr. Smith. I was only joking."
Jacob didn't respond, only gave him a cold look before turning to leave.
But after taking just one step, he stopped.
He turned back to look at Uri, his tone slightly softer, "Mr. Noah, once our wedding date is confirmed, if Mr. Noah has time, you're welcome to attend for a celebratory drink. Having Nightfall's leader present would be my honor."
A profoundly strange feeling surged through Uri.
Jacob's fiancée was Nightfall's leader.
And he, at this moment, was accepting Jacob's wedding invitation in Noel's identity.
This was nothing short of an absurd play.
But Uri's face maintained perfect composure. He nodded slightly, his tone appropriate, "Thank you for the kind invitation, Mr. Smith. If there's an opportunity, I will certainly attend."
Jacob nodded and turned to leave the banquet hall.
Uri watched his silhouette disappear at the doorway, then let out a long breath. He picked up his wine glass and drained the remaining red wine in one gulp, trying to suppress that strange feeling in his chest.
Around him, guests continued conversing and laughing, clinking their glasses.
Those business magnates, political figures, and representatives of major families all wore smiles—some genuine, some fake—toasting each other and chatting. A scene of lively harmony.
Uri looked at those smiles, but a chill rose in his heart.
He recalled Elizabeth's earlier analysis—this cruise trip had been a setup from beginning to end.
Sawyer's invitation, Pacquiao and Vincent's collaboration, and that suddenly appearing Nolan—everything pointed in the same direction.
Jacob was the prey.
And he was now sitting at the hunters' banquet, drinking with those who might want to kill him.
Uri set down his glass, his gaze slowly sweeping across the faces of those chatting and laughing guests.
He saw Pacquiao's people, Vincent's people, and Sawyer's subordinates.
What lay behind their smiles? What were they plotting in their wine glasses?
He stood up, straightened his suit, and walked toward the door.
But his heart was pounding wildly.
He had this overwhelming feeling that the situation was dangerous—this was a blatant trap.
This business trip was definitely a huge loss. When he got back, he'd definitely make Noel give him a bonus.
Of course, that was assuming he could leave this ship alive.
The corridor was dimly lit as Uri walked quickly forward.
Just as he was about to turn a corner, a waiter suddenly stepped out from the side, respectfully blocking his path.
"Mr. Noah," the waiter said quietly, "someone wants to see you."
Uri's brow furrowed. "Who?"
The waiter didn't answer, only stepped aside slightly, clearing the path behind him.
At the end of the corridor, a figure stood quietly. The dim lighting outlined his upright silhouette, but his features remained unclear.
Uri's pupils contracted slightly.
That figure—he recognized it.
It was Sawyer.