Chapter 301 Offshore Account
Ella
The cold, salty breeze that brushed against my face as we arrived at the docks was a stark, but welcoming, contrast to the stifling warmth of the party. The night was dark, the water shimmering faintly under the moonlight.
Moored ahead of us was an enormous yacht, its sprawling length dotted with sparkling lights, making it look like a floating palace.
“God, how big is this thing?” I whispered, taking in the sheer size of the vessel. “That’s my brother’s taste for you,” Logan murmured, his voice a mix of amusement and exasperation.
The yacht, named The Serpent’s Charm, was truly an epitome of luxury and excess. After a tour of the sprawling main deck, Logan led me towards the interior, with a promise of showing the opulence that lay within..
Opening a double door adorned with intricate golden patterns, we entered the grand lounge. It was vast, stretching wide with plush velvet couches and a massive crystal chandelier hanging above. On the far end was a bar, its shelves stocked with rows of the finest spirits and champagnes.
“And here, Ms. Morgan,” a voice interrupted, making us turn. It was a man in a crisp uniform, likely the captain. “Is where many of our esteemed guests like to unwind. The lounge boasts a collection of spirits from over fifty countries.”
“Seems like your brother has quite the taste,” I remarked, taking in the grandeur of not only the yacht itself, but the staff. It was like being in an extremely expensive hotel. Logan shrugged. “Or perhaps too much money to burn.”
The captain, perhaps sensing the underlying tension, quickly changed the topic. “Shall we proceed to the dining area?”
We nodded, following him through a series of corridors, each adorned with paintings and sculptures from what looked like different eras. The dining room was another spectacle. A long table made of what looked like mahogany, surrounded by chairs upholstered in deep purple velvet, dominated the center. Above, another chandelier, this one even larger, glittered.
“Dinner parties here are quite the affair,” Logan mentioned, almost absent-mindedly.
“Or orgies of excess,” I retorted, only half-joking. Logan smirked. “You certainly have a way with words, Ella,” he said. Then, lowering his voice: “And you’re not wrong.”
As we moved on, we came across a state-of- the-art kitchen, larger than most restaurants, and then a cinema room with plush recliners and a screen that took up an entire wall.
“Wow, a private theater?” I exclaimed, genuinely impressed.
Logan’s brother, having caught up with us, chimed in with a sly grin. “Care for a private screening later? I’ve got all sorts of foreign. films, if you catch my drift.”
“Let’s stick to the tour for now,” I replied, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. We continued our journey through the yacht, stopping briefly at a spa area complete with a sauna and a jacuzzi. Every step I took felt like sinking further into a world of extravagance I’d only ever read about in novels.
“You seem surprised,” Logan said quietly as we followed behind the tour group. “Not used to this sort of extravagance?”
“Not at all,” I replied, shaking my head. “My father never cared for stuff like this. None of us did. We had a nice penthouse and a mountain estate, and sure, there were plenty of parties. and galas. But a yacht like this? He’d never dream of it.”
As we rounded the tour, approaching what looked like private quarters, Marina joined us.
“This is where the magic happens,” she said with a wink, gesturing to a grand bedroom with an adjoining balcony that offered a breathtaking view of the sea.
It was then that the weight of the yacht’s luxury hit me. It wasn’t just about flaunting wealth; it was a statement. A declaration of power and dominance. And Marina and Harry, by taking us on this tour, were showing us just how much better they were.
“Enjoying the tour?” Marina asked, her voice dripping with faux sweetness.
“Every bit of it,” I replied, maintaining a polite facade. “Though, I have to ask: how does one even keep track of everything here?”
Marina laughed. “You get used to it. And with enough staff, everything runs like clockwork.”
“I can only imagine,” I murmured.
As we returned to the pool area, I couldn’t shake off the overwhelming sensation of having glimpsed another world-a world of unchecked extravagance, where every desire was just an arm’s length away.
I couldn’t help but wonder how much blood money was behind every polished surface and every glinting trinket. But, holding onto my discretion, I kept my thoughts to myself..
Logan must have sensed my discomfort because he tightened his grip around my arm.
“Stick close,” he warned, guiding me to wrap my arm around his. I felt a surge of warmth run up my arm, and there was a flutter in my stomach that I couldn’t entirely blame on the dizzying opulence around me.
Ema was practically purring inside my head. “I like this,” she hummed, enjoying our proximity to Logan.
“I noticed,” I quipped back mentally. Logan’s brother, a tall figure with dark hair and a smirk to rival Loga’s, led the guests toward the pool area. The pool, lit from below, cast a serene glow on the guests as they began shedding layers and diving in.
Glancing down at my elegant but non-aquatic outfit, I sighed.
“I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”
Logan’s brother turned to face me, his smirk widening. “You can always skinny dip,” he suggested, his tone dripping with mischief. Heat rushed to my face. “I think I’ll pass on swimming tonight,” I replied, giving him a pointed look.
Before the awkwardness could stretch further, Marina, with her cascade of golden hair and striking green eyes, approached us.
“Ella,” she cooed, “I have a spare bikini you can borrow. Come with me.”
I hesitated, looking over at Logan, uncertain. Using our Mindlink, a soft, reassuring voice echoed in my head. “It’ll be okay. Just keep your gun close.”
Trusting him, I nodded and followed Marina through a maze of corridors, each more opulent than the last. She led me to her private quarters. The room was nothing short of a royal suite, decked in satin and silks with gold accents.
She handed me a piece of fabric that she referred to as a bikini. Skimpy was an understatement; it barely qualified as cloth. Holding it in my hand, I felt like a prude, but there was no way I was parading around in this.
“I’ll give you some privacy,” Marina said with a wink, closing the door behind her.
Grumbling to myself, I reluctantly changed into the scanty swimsuit. It barely covered… well, anything, with the top leaving almost everything on display and the bottom being hardly more than a thong.
But, as Logan said, this was about appearances. We had to play this game for a year, and his family clearly already had their reservations about me.
“You can just wear it and keep a towel on,” Ema said, equally as perturbed by the bundle of strings that Marina called a ‘swimsuit’.
“Good idea,” I said. Grabbing an embroidered towel off the rack, I tightly wrapped it around my body, hoping it would provide some semblance of decency.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped out. To my surprise, Marina was there, waiting. And in her hand, she held my gun, a wicked smirk playing on her lips.
“I believe this is yours,” she purred, twirling it around her finger.
