Jean's chest heaved with anger and urgency as she turned to Logan, who stood beside her, his jaw clenched tight. "Handle Junho," she commanded over the roaring winds. "I'll get the phone."
Logan's expression darkened. He hated the idea of her running off alone, especially with the storm making things unpredictable. But there was no time to argue. He gave her a sharp nod. "But be ready for the consequences, Adams."
Before Jean could respond, Logan spun around and delivered a single, brutal punch to Junho's face. Junho barely had time to react before he was thrown to the ground, groaning in pain as Logan pinned him down with ease.
Meanwhile, Farah, gripping the phone tightly, let out a startled gasp. Panic flickered across her face as she turned on her heels and bolted towards the deck, her heels slipping slightly on the wet surface.
Jean didn't hesitate. She ran after her, rain soaking her hair and dress instantly. The sound of thunder cracked above them, followed by another violent lurch of the yacht. The deck tilted slightly, forcing Jean to steady herself against the railing before resuming her chase.
"Jean! Be careful!" Logan's voice rang out behind her, but she had no time to acknowledge him.
Farah was fast, her slender frame allowing her to slide through the slippery deck effortlessly. But Jean was determined. Her eyes locked on the device that held the damning evidence.
As they reached the edge of the deck, where the rain-soaked floor met the endless ocean, Jean lunged. Her fingers barely grazed Farah's arm before the yacht rocked violently again, nearly sending them both off balance.
With her heart hammering in her chest, Jean knew, this was her only chance.
The air inside the yacht was warm, filled with the hum of chatter and clinking glasses, but Emma felt a chill of unease crawl up her spine. Jean had been gone for far too long.
At first, she thought Jean had merely stepped away for a breather or a quick word with someone, but as the minutes stretched into half an hour, her patience gave way to full-blown concern.
She scanned the room, her eyes darting between familiar faces, searching for a glimpse of Jean's signature poised stance. Nothing. Her gaze shifted to Logan's seat.
Empty.
A knot tightened in her stomach. This wasn't a coincidence.
"Has anyone seen Jean?" she asked Ganga, Sasha and Rosalie, trying to keep the panic from her voice.
A few exchanged confused glances before shaking their heads.
"I think I saw her walking towards Mr Kim. She must have gone to speak with him earlier, but then I don't know, could be in the restroom but she should be back by now," Rosalie said, not clear herself.
Emma's fingers curled into fists. Something was going on and nobody had any idea about it.
As she turned on her heel to find answers, a deep rumble echoed through the yacht. The waves outside churned violently, rattling the elegant crystal chandeliers above. A few guests glanced out the large windows, murmuring as the dark clouds thickened, blotting out the last remnants of sunlight.
A storm was brewing.
Emma felt her pulse spike.
She moved quickly through the crowd, heading toward Mr. Kim. The man was engaged in conversation with a group of distinguished guests, but Emma didn't care about social etiquette at the moment.
"Mr. Kim," she interrupted, her voice urgent. "I need to speak with you."
The older man turned, his sharp gaze narrowing at her. "You're Miss Adams' assistant right?"
She nods.
"It's Jean," she rushed out. "She's been gone for too long, and Logan is missing too. The storm is getting worse. I'm worried something might've happened."
Mr. Kim's grip on his champagne flute tightened slightly. His expression darkened, unreadable, before he set the glass down on the nearest table.
"The captain said there were no signs of storm but now that there is, I see not only it's Miss Adams and Mr Kingsley but the three of them." He spoke looking at the vacant seat of his own son. His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it.
His mind was already turning over the possibilities. The timing was too peculiar. First the rumors about Jean and Logan, and now their simultaneous absence with his son?
His expression hardened, and for the first time that evening, true tension settled over the gathering.
"Find them," he ordered his staff. "Now."
The guests exchanged puzzled glances as the mood shifted, but Emma was already on the move, her heart pounding as she prayed she wasn't already too late.
Jean's breath came in quick gasps as she chased after Farah, her heels clicking against the slick deck. The storm had turned fierce, the wind howling in her ears, the yacht tilting slightly under the force of the swelling waves. Rain poured down in relentless sheets, making it hard to see, hard to think.
Farah clutched the phone tightly, glancing back at Jean with determination. Jean lunged, and the two collided. "Give me the phone already, you stupid woman!"
"Shut up bitch!" A struggle ensued, both women grappling for control, their soaked clothes clinging to them as they fought in the storm's chaos. Jean clawed at Farah's wrist, trying to loosen her grip, but Farah twisted out of her hold with surprising strength.
Then, in the madness of their struggle, Farah slipped. Her heel caught on the wet surface, and with a sharp yelp, she lost her footing.
The phone flew from her grasp, bouncing before sliding dangerously close to the edge of the deck.
Jean's heart pounded as she watched the device teeter, inches away from plunging into the dark ocean below. Fear seized her.
If that phone disappeared into the abyss, she'd never know if the pictures had already been sent, never be sure if her family's wrath was imminent.
Blinded by desperation, Jean threw caution aside. She darted forward, her hands outstretched, ignoring the slippery surface beneath her feet.
She skidded, barely catching herself in time, her fingers closing around the phone in a victorious grip. Relief flooded her veins.
But then… A sharp curse came from behind her. Farah had scrambled to her feet, her eyes wide in horror. Jean turned to see what had frozen her opponent in fear.
Her stomach dropped.
"Oh God." A monstrous wave loomed ahead, towering over the deck like a vengeful force of nature.