She Used Me for a Dare… Now I Own Her Mother

Chapter 387: The Room Next Door(3)

"I noticed you seemed... hesitant about your current accommodations," The lady began, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial velvet that bypassed Howard entirely to stroke Siobhan’s ego.

"And as it happens, our management has just authorized a special upgrade for our most distinguished guests."

Siobhan’s eyes lit up with a sudden, sharp hunger. "Really?"

"Yes. It’s—"

"What do you mean by ’upgrade’?" Howard interrupted, his voice cutting through the sweet-talk with the blunt edge of a man who dealt in ledgers and bottom lines. "I’ve been coming here for a year. Why haven’t I heard about this before?"

He stood there, arms crossed, his suspicion flaring. He smelled a sales trap, and Howard Sterling prided himself on being the one who set traps, not the one who fell into them.

’This miser,’ The lady cursed silently, her gaze flickering over his overcautious, middle-management posture. But her face remained a mask of professional warmth.

"Sir, The Red Rose occasionally offers these exclusive packages to our most prestigious clients," she explained calmly. "Since you are such a frequent and valued guest, the manager personally decided to extend this courtesy to you tonight."

Siobhan’s hand found Howard’s arm immediately, her fingers pressing in with the quiet urgency of a woman who had been wanting the twelfth floor for a long time.

Howard felt the pressure and ignored it. He was not about to be maneuvered by a hotel girl with a clipboard and a speech.

"How much?" he asked flatly.

"I beg your pardon?"

"The cost. The hidden charge. The fine print." He gestured vaguely. "What is it?"

The lady let the beat stretch just long enough to make him feel slightly foolish for asking.

"Sir, it is a completely complimentary upgrade. You won’t have to pay a single rupee extra." A triumphant, jagged smile tugged at her lips. "In fact, the package includes premium room service and amenities."

Howard’s eyebrows shot up.

"Really? For free?" Siobhan asked.

"Yes, Ma’am," The lady said, turning back to Siobhan. "The twelfth floor is being prepared as we speak. I can personally escort you both up to ensure everything is to your... specific tastes."

Siobhan gasped, her earlier sulking vanishing like smoke. "The twelfth floor? The Presidential wing?"

"Not quite the Presidential Suite itself, Ma’am," The lady corrected, her tone apologetic even as she mocked them in her heart. ’The Presidential wing? You wouldn’t even deserve the club level on your best day, you little social climber.’

"There is already a VVIP guest in the main suite. However, we have approved the Executive Room directly attached to it."

"The Executive wing is incredible, Howard! Let’s go, darling," Siobhan urged, her voice high with excitement.

She had dreamed of the twelfth floor for months, but Howard’s wallet had always kept them firmly on the lower levels. This was her chance to live the life she’d only seen in magazines... and she planned to order every expensive thing on the menu once they were inside.

Howard looked between the two women. He still had a nagging, sinking feeling in his gut... a primal instinct telling him that ’free’ always came with a hidden price.

But the look of absolute triumph on Siobhan’s face told him that if he refused, his night would end in an argument rather than the bed.

Plus, a thought occurred to him: the twelfth floor was where the real money stayed. If he was up there, he might run into a high-level contact, a business mogul, someone who could actually move his career forward.

"Fine," Howard finally conceded, adjusting his jacket with a stiff, self-important jerk. "Let’s go. And be sure to pass along our thanks to the manager for this level of hospitality."

The lady smile was a secret, jagged thing. She knew exactly what she was delivering them into, and she knew that for people like the Sterlings, greed would always override their instincts.

"Follow me, please," She murmured, gesturing back toward the elevators with a graceful sweep of her hand. "It’s our duty to ensure our most valued guests receive the service they truly deserve."

***

The elevator chimed a final, melodic note as it reached the twelfth floor.

The doors slid back to reveal a world far removed from the sterile corridors below.

Here, the air was cool and scented with sandalwood, the walls lined with silk-weave wallpaper that caught the glow of the recessed golden lights.

Heena stepped out, her feet sinking into the plush, deep-pile carpet. She was in a daze, her eyes wandering over the original oil paintings and the hand-carved mahogany console tables.

She had lived a life of comfort, but this was a different tier of reality... a level of luxury that felt like an indictment of the mundane life she had accepted for fifteen years.

She had never imagined herself here. Not like this. Not with a student. But fate had proven to be a cruel, exhilarating mistress.

Alex watched her for a moment, seeing the way she looked at the opulence with a mix of awe and lingering guilt.

Without a word, he stepped into her space. Before she could protest, he hooked one arm beneath her knees and the other around her waist, hoisting her up into his arms with a sharp, masculine grunt of effort.

"Ahh!" Heena gasped, her hands instinctively flying to his shoulders to steady herself. The sudden loss of gravity made her stomach flip, and she felt the cool rush of air against her bare thighs as her skirt bunched upward.

"Alex, put me down! Someone might see," she whispered, her face flushing a deep, frantic crimson.

"Let them," Alex murmured, his gaze steady and dark as he held her flush against his chest. He didn’t look like he was carrying a burden; he looked like he was carrying a trophy. "I’m going to show this floor to you the way it was meant to be seen. From the arms of a man who actually knows what he’s holding."

Heena looked at him... at the sharp line of his jaw and the arrogant, protective fire in his eyes. The Professor inside her tried to muster a protest, but the woman she had become tonight silenced it.

She had chosen this fire. She had walked away from the ghost of Howard Sterling and into the arms of the devil. She wasn’t going to waste this awakening by clinging to a past that had already abandoned her.

She let out a soft, trembling breath and relaxed against him, her fingers curling into the fabric of his jacket.

"Show me then," she whispered, her voice hardening with a new, reckless resolve.

Alex’s lips curved into a slow, predatory smile.

He turned, carrying her toward the heavy double doors of Suite 1201, his stride long and confident.

He wasn’t just taking her to a room; he was taking her to the edge of the world she knew, and he had no intention of bringing her back.

Alex carried her through the vast, dimly lit expanse of the suite, the silence of the room amplifying the rhythmic thud of his heart against her palm.

He reached the floor-to-ceiling glass doors and nudged them open with his shoulder, stepping out into the private sanctuary of the balcony.

He lowered her slowly, his hands lingering on her waist until he was certain her feet had found their purchase on the cold, polished stone.

Heena took a tentative step toward the railing, her breath hitching. The night air was different up here... it didn’t feel like the stagnant breeze of the streets. It felt expensive, crisp, and impossibly clean, as if the air itself were a premium amenity reserved only for those who climbed this high.

It rushed over her skin, cooling the frantic heat of her cheeks and threading through her hair, seemingly washing away the lingering traces of her old life with every gust.

She leaned forward, her elbows resting on the iron balustrade. Below, the city was a sprawling, chaotic nervous system of white and red lights.

It was moving at its usual, indifferent pace... commuters rushing home, street lights flickering, lives being lived in small, predictable circles.

Nothing down there had changed, yet from this height, it all looked like a distant memory.

"It’s so quiet," she whispered, the city’s roar reduced to a faint, oceanic hum. "Everything looks so... insignificant."

"Because it is," Alex murmured, stepping up behind her. He didn’t touch her, but his shadow fell over her, shielding her from the vastness of the horizon. "Down there, you’re just a part of the machinery. Up here, you’re the one looking down on it."

Heena closed her eyes, letting the wind caress her throat and the sensitized skin of her thighs. The worries that had tethered her to the earth seemed to be dissolving into the dark sky.

She wasn’t just a professor or a wife anymore. She was a woman standing on the edge of a new world, and the view was intoxicating.

"I never realized how much I hated the ground," she said, her voice gaining a crystalline edge of resolve.

She turned to look at him, her silhouette framed by the glowing skyline. She had stopped looking for the ghost of the man who was likely at this very moment stepping into the room next door.

She was finally looking at the man who had brought her to the clouds.