Chapter 1375:


    “I heard the Morgan couple fell off a cliff not long ago… Is Maia involved somehow?”


    “That doesn’t sound right. Maia isn’t someone who would do something like that.”


    “But judging from how he’s acting… he must have a reason for asking her that, right?”


    “Perhaps he’s simply losing control. The Morgan family has already copsed.”


    The whispers spread through the crowd like threads of sound tugging at every listener.


    Maia raised her eyes, and although her expression stayedposed, her tone turned colder than before. “Why are you asking me something like that?”


    Jarrod’s restraint slipped away, and he shouted, “I’m giving you onest chance. Did you talk to them on the phone or not?”


    Maia held her silence briefly, then gave a slow shake of her head. “No. I didn’t.”


    “Ha!” Jarrod released a bitter sound, and his voice carried both hurt and fury.


    His reddened eyes gleamed with raw emotion, and he looked as though he hovered at the edge of breaking. “Maia, it really was you. You can stand here and lie… as if it costs you nothing.”


    Pattie reached her breaking point and lunged forward, pushing Jarrod aside as her anger finally erupted. “Has every member of the Morgan familypletely lost their sanity?”


    Her patience vanished, and she shouted, “Security! Someone here is creating a scene.”


    A group of guards hurried toward them as soon as she called out.


    Jarrod stumbled backward while muttering, “Maia, you won’t escape the consequences.”


    He shot Pattie a frigid re and added, “I’ll leave without your help.”


    The tension inside the banquet hall thickened, and the room felt colder with every passing second.


    gα?ησν????s?cо??, your storytelling home


    Maia followed Jarrod’s retreat with her eyes while confusion tightened her expression.


    A troubling thought crept into her mind. Could Richard and Sandra’s fall have been something far more deliberate than an ident?


    By then, Cohen had already reached the electrical room ahead of schedule. Inside the cramped chamber, the dim emergency lights washed everything in a dull red tint.


    Moving with practiced ease, he slipped past the camera’s blind zones and retrieved a detonator he had stashed in his pack. The device’s metal shell caught the weak light and gave off a chilling shimmer.


    With steady hands, Cohen fitted the detonator into the main circuit board as if he were assembling a delicate instrument. From countless simr jobs, he knew thesevish venues always relied on a secondary power supply.


    He needed a buffer of extra minutes, and he refused to risk being exposed once the lights returned.


    “Got you,” Cohen whispered when he finally spotted the backup power cables.


    A tactical knife appeared in his grip, and its edge reflected the red glow like a thin line of ice.


    Within thirty seconds, the auxiliary wiringypletely cut through.


    .


    .


    .