Chapter 142
The man's expression shifted instantly. "What did you say?"
"The next rescue boat won't save you either." Uri's voice remained calm, as if he were stating a simple fact. "From now on, no Nightfall rescue vessel will come anywhere near you."
The man's face went completely white. "You're insane! What gives you the right?!"
"What gives me the right?" Uri repeated the words, then suddenly smiled—a smile laced with undisguised contempt and mockery.
"Because she's my date." He enunciated each word clearly, his voice not loud but carrying distinctly to every ear. "She is mine. Not for others to criticize."
The man's mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. His face shifted from white to green, from green to purple, before finally settling into the ashen gray of despair.
Someone in the crowd couldn't help but speak up. "Mr. Noah, he definitely crossed the line, but the rest of us are innocent! That woman is clearly Jacob's fiancée—aren't you worried about bringing her along..."
Uri's gaze drifted toward the speaker, still wearing that faint smile. "What's your name?"
The man's face changed too.
Uri lowered his head and tapped his tablet twice more. Then he looked up and said in the same tone, "You too."
The crowd fell completely silent.
Not a single person dared to breathe, let alone speak. Everyone stared in horror at the gold-rimmed glasses. He appeared so refined, so scholarly, yet it was like they were looking at a demon wearing human skin.Uri swept his gaze across the crowd, put away his tablet, and turned to walk back toward the center of the boat. After a few steps, he suddenly stopped and said without turning around, "In two hours, a rescue boat will pass through this area. Whether you can hold on that long depends on your own luck."
With that, he climbed the gangway and disappeared into the cabin entrance.
On the surface of the sea, there was a deathly silence.
Inside the cabin, Elizabeth leaned against the window, watching the sea gradually recede outside, saying nothing.
Jacob stood behind her, also silent.
His gaze fell on her profile—that pale yet still beautiful face. Her lashes drooped slightly; he couldn't tell what she was thinking.
He suddenly recalled Uri's earlier words, "My person. Not for others to criticize."
"She's my date."
"My boat. I bring my own people. Any problem with that?"
Those words were like thorns, piercing his heart.
She was supposed to be his woman.
But just moments ago, the one who stood up to protect her wasn't him.
It was that man. That man called "Noel." That seemingly refined and scholarly, yet ruthlessly cold-blooded Nightfall leader.
He'd wanted to rush forward and silence those people forever. He'd wanted to tell them this was Jacob's woman, and anyone who touched a hair on her head would pay with their life.
But he had been powerless to act.
Because right now, he had nothing. His boat had sunk, his people were God knows where, and his influence on these waters meant nothing. He didn't even know if he could make it back to land alive.
He was powerless.
Only watch helplessly as another man protected his woman.
A humiliation he'd never felt before churned in Jacob's chest. He clenched his fists, veins bulging on the backs of his hands, yet could only forcibly suppress the emotion threatening to burst from his chest.
What disturbed him even more was the man's attitude toward Elizabeth.
That favoritism had gone beyond the scope of an ordinary date.
It was an almost instinctive protection. That look in his eyes, that tone, that ruthless decisiveness in blacklisting everyone without hesitation—that wasn't how a man treated a date.
That was how a man treated someone important to him.
Jacob recalled the way Uri had looked at Elizabeth earlier—there'd been concern, worry, and something he couldn't quite identify.
What was it?
He didn't know.
But he knew it made him very uncomfortable.
Extremely uncomfortable.
Elizabeth seemed to sense something and turned to look at him. Her gaze fell on his clenched fists, and she froze for a moment before letting out a soft sigh.
"Jacob," she called his name gently.
Jacob looked at her without speaking.
Elizabeth reached out, grasped his clenched fist, and pried open his fingers one by one, placing her own hand inside.
"You're angry," she said—not a question, but a statement.
Jacob was silent for a moment before speaking, his voice hoarse and low. "What did he call you?"
Elizabeth paused slightly.
"His date." Jacob repeated the words with obvious sarcasm in his tone. "He called you his date."
Elizabeth looked at him and suddenly smiled—a smile tinged with both helplessness and warmth.
"That was my request," she said. "I asked him to call me that."
Jacob's brow furrowed.
Elizabeth squeezed his hand and said softly, "Jacob, I came here under the identity of Noel's date. If people knew I was Jacob's fiancée, my cover would've been blown long ago. He said that to protect me."
Jacob remained silent.
He knew she was right. He knew this was the only correct approach. He knew everything that man had done was to help her, to cover for her.
But he still felt uncomfortable.
He stared at her and suddenly asked, "Does he like you?"
Elizabeth froze.
"That Noel." Jacob spoke each word deliberately, his gaze locked tightly on her. "He likes you."
The statement was so definitive that Elizabeth didn't know how to respond for a moment.
She opened her mouth, wanting to say "no," wanting to say "he's just my subordinate," wanting to say "you're overthinking it," but suddenly realized she couldn't.
Because Uri did know her true identity. Because Uri's protection of her did exceed the scope of an ordinary subordinate. Because she couldn't explain why a "leader" would show such favoritism toward his "date."
Her few seconds of silence, in Jacob's eyes, was the answer.
He suddenly laughed—a laugh tinged with unprecedented bitterness and self-mockery.
"I'm that useless," he said, his voice so low it was almost inaudible. "Can't even protect my own woman. Need someone else to do it."
Elizabeth's heart clenched sharply.
She gripped his hand tighter, her eyes slightly reddening. "Jacob, it's not like that."
Jacob raised his hand and gently pressed it against her lips.
"I know," he said, his voice hoarse. "I know this isn't the time to be selfish. I know you're doing this for our sake. I know..."
He paused, his Adam's apple bobbing. "But I just can't stand it. Can't stand watching another man stand in front of you, shielding you from those filthy words. Can't stand hearing others call you 'his date.' Can't stand..."
His voice dropped lower, the last few words almost ground out through clenched teeth, "I'm jealous. Jealous to the point of madness."