SMR | Chapter 101

~Chapter 101~ 

‘Now’s not the time to get lost in fantasies! I have a mission to pull off tonight!’

Harriet scolded herself. But a mocking voice in the back of her mind—wearing her own face—sneered back.

[It’s not entirely unrelated, is it? You’re here tonight because of Cedric Kailas, aren’t you?]

It was laughable, but she had no response.

Because it was true.

‘That’s not the same thing at all!’

[Isn’t it? Or do you actually think you’re risking your safety by doing this because of your noble sense of justice? That’s adorable.]

She could hear that voice laughing—taunting, even. Was it the drug?

The spiraling emotions were too much. She shook her head hard, trying to snap herself out of it—

—when someone suddenly grabbed her by the arm.

“Whew! What a beauty. Why are you hiding, darling? This is the ship of pleasure, not a confessional.”

Harriet gasped in alarm. Just like that, the fantasies vanished.

But any relief was short-lived—because the man who had grabbed her was in no state to be trusted.

“L-Let me go!”

“Oh? Is this part of the act? You hiding, only to be caught… is that your fantasy?”

The man wore a pig mask, his body large and damp with sweat. He shoved her against the wall with a lustful grin.

“I’m not joking. I have no intention of doing anything with you.”

She tried to pull away, but her body was still sluggish from the drug. To the man, her resistance probably felt more like teasing.

“Well, your body says otherwise. Come on now, Lady. Let’s get you somewhere a bit more… accommodating.”

So much for Tez’s promise—“No touching woman without consent.” It was a blatant lie.

The pig-masked man dragged her across the room, ignoring her protests. People turned to look—but not to help.

“Hey! Roll out the red carpet! We’ve got ourselves a first-timer!”

He held up Harriet’s hand, proudly displaying the stamped mark on her skin. His companions—male and female alike—cheered.

Then, laughing, they shoved her onto a massive cushioned seat at the center of their group.

‘This is bad. This is really bad.’

Panic pulsed through her.

Was this the price of her recklessness? Charging into danger with little more than shaky courage?

She was seconds away from screaming Tez’s name when something caught her attention—the pig-man’s drunken babble to his friends.

“She was hiding back there. I bet she likes being caught like this…”

That gave Harriet a glimmer of hope.

‘This place is all about indulging taboos and private fantasies, right?’

She forced herself to breathe slowly, to calm the panic and the rapid beat of her heart. Then she looked around.

Everyone nearby seemed too far gone to notice anything strange.

They laughed too loudly, stumbled when they moved, and tossed their heads around like drunks or lunatics.

Even the pig-mask man, despite his brute strength, was sluggish.

Harriet clenched her jaw and suddenly sprang to her feet.

“What are you talking about? That’s the opposite of what I want.”

Heads turned.

She walked straight up to the pig-masked man, lifted her foot, and shoved his shoulder hard. He stumbled backward and fell onto the cushions, dumbfounded.

Harriet laughed—the same wild laugh they’d used on her—and barked,

“You’ve got ten seconds. Run.”

“…What?”

“Don’t let me catch you. I want to see you panting, squealing like a little pig. If you turn out to be a worthy hunt, I’ll let you moan beneath me all night. If not… I’ll just go find better prey.”

The words came out sharper, bolder than she expected—thanks to the lingering effects of the drug.

The pig-mask man stared at her, then let out a silly giggle and started getting to his feet.

Harriet looked down at him like a queen delivering a final decision.

“One. Two. Three…”

The man laughed and staggered away, tripping over his pants as he went.

His friends howled with laughter behind him.

Harriet counted to ten, then headed off as if on the hunt—head high, steps purposeful—before breaking into a light stride toward a safer, more hidden corner of the ship.

* * *

“How’s the floor looking tonight?”

Albert leaned against a polished table, sipping dark liquor, as the ship manager grinned with pride.

“Breaking records every night, sir. We’ve already sold over 100,000 dirhams worth of Angelique. And the lower areas? Special zones pulled in another 820,000.”

A satisfied smile crept across Albert’s lips.

He’d wanted to hold these boat parties every night—but his father had warned him:

“People only obsess over what they can’t have.”

So, once a week it was.

Even so, by the end of a single evening, he would see two million untaxed dirhams recorded in his private ledger.

‘Now this is how you make money.’

He almost laughed out loud but held it back with a tight jaw.

At this rate, his wealth could rival Cedric’s. And once the money piled high enough, power would follow.

Then he wouldn’t have to stare at Cedric’s back in frustration—Cedric would be staring at his, choking on the bitter taste of defeat.

‘Just wait, Cedric. You’ll see.’

Albert opened a small box from his coat.

Inside sat a ruby brooch—the one a spy had risked his life to steal from the Kailas estate.

“My lord,” the man had said, trembling. “The Kailas household has issued a no-resignation order. You’ll still get me out safely, right?  I—I couldn’t survive torture!”

He’d been placed there under a false identity to repay a debt of 150,000 dirhams. But apparently, the idiot wanted more mercy? Pathetic.

He should’ve known to disappear the moment his job was done. Instead, he stuck around until Cedric started picking him out.

‘Some people really do beg for death. Makes my job easier, at least.’

By now, the fool had probably eaten that peanut jam his “wife” had lovingly packed—and choked on it.

Albert plucked the brooch from the box, holding it up to the light.

The ruby glimmered without a flaw. The diamonds encircling it were clearly of the highest grade.

Still, Cedric was right.

“This isn’t worth 150,000 dirhams. I’m taking a loss.”

But he wasn’t about to sit around moping.

If he used it as tonight’s event prize, he wouldn’t make immediate profit—but it would boost the party’s image.

And just imagining Cedric’s reaction—learning that his father’s treasured brooch had spent the night stuck between the breasts of an old prostitute—made Albert grin.

Sliding the brooch back into its box, he gave the manager a nod.

“Alright. Let’s start tonight’s show.”

“Yes, my lord!”

The stage crew got to work.

A plush chair was placed in the center of the stage. Spotlights turned toward it. A steady drumroll blasted through the hall, turning even the most intoxicated heads toward the platform.

Then came a blare of horns, and a dazzling host bounded onto the stage, bowing with practiced charm.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the most luxurious spot under the heavens—the Angelique Boat Party! Tonight, we’ve prepared a spectacular event just for you!”

Cheers exploded from the crowd.

The host gestured theatrically.

“For tonight’s event, we have a very special guest. Please welcome the Queen of the Night herself—Madam Rominas!”

Thunderous applause.

Rominas, a well-known madam and prostitute in these circles, stepped onto the stage in a low-cut gown that barely contained her bulging chest.

She’d found her second golden age aboard this ship—no one spoke about the more ‘unusual’ desires of guests better than she did.

She blew kisses in every direction, demonstrating grace as she sat in the plush chair. As she bent forward, her dress shifted—revealing a glimpse of something tucked between her breasts.

People immediately began whispering.

The host continued with a grin.

“Tonight’s prize is a gentleman’s brooch. But not just any brooch—this belonged to none other than Duke Rowan Kailas, who tragically died in the Kiphren War!”

A stunned murmur swept through the crowd.

Rominas pulled up her neckline teasingly, hiding the brooch from view.

If anyone wanted it, they’d have to reach right into her bosom. Literally!

“I see you’re all intrigued,” the host said with a wink. “Now then… how can you win it?”

He paused dramatically.

Then, like popping a champagne cork, he shouted—