She Used Me for a Dare… Now I Own Her Mother Chapter 386: The Room Next Door (2)

"Yes—yes, of course, Sir." Lydia's hands shifted to the keyboard, her prior display utterly dismissed, overtaken by the swift obedience of a person who knew an ironclad command when given.

Yet while handling the check-in, her brain spun wildly, her mind wandering back to the fellow from mere moments earlier... Howard Sterling.

'Could this guy be connected to him?' she pondered, but she swiftly dismissed the idea. 'No, something much more sinister is unfolding here.'

She recalled the woman's response... how she had clearly recoiled at the mere implication of the man now upstairs. It screamed of a profound, shadowy link.

"Don't tell me..." Lydia thought, a chilling excitement surging through her. On the surface, she kept up her facade of detached professionalism.

Situations like this were familiar territory. Having served at the Red Rose for years, she could spot the framework of a major scandal a mile away.

For Lydia, a scandal wasn't trouble... it was a chance. This turmoil offered leverage she could twist to her own benefit down the line.

"The key, Lydia," Alex stated, his tone lowering sharply, slicing through the receptionist's act like a knife.

Lydia's eyes flickered, her rehearsed grin slipping briefly beneath the press of his abrupt chill.

She hurriedly pushed the gold key card over the desk, her fingertips pausing on the surface as though aiming to hold him there a second more.

"Floor twelve," Lydia murmured, her gaze flicking momentarily to Heena then returning to Alex. "The elevator's right there. Have a... pleasant stay. Sir, Madam."

Alex snatched the card without a single word of gratitude.

He extended his arm, his palm pressing into the curve of Heena’s back, fingers spreading broad over her flesh as he guided her to the gilded elevator doors.

Lydia observed their departure, her stare aflame with clear jealousy while following the trail of Alex’s hand on Heena’s waist.

Once the elevator doors sealed with a hiss, her work persona evaporated, giving way to a frenzied, scheming drive.

She craved this man; no, she required him.

"You, cover for me," Lydia snapped at the junior staffer, bypassing any reply as she emerged from behind the desk. "I'm dealing with this VVIP personally. Keep the desk clear of interruptions."

Red Rose protocols were clear: managers typically handled Presidential Suite visitors, but Lydia refused to let this prime chance escape.

She rushed to the employee changing area, her pulse pounding fiercely in her chest.

Her whole career had built toward an instant like this, with a secret stash ready for when a top-tier mark finally appeared.

***

As they departed, Heena sensed Lydia’s gaze drilling into her back, gauging the gap, plotting the fallout. She held her tongue until the elevator sealed them in mirrored quiet.

With the elevator's steady, vibrating climb underway, the quiet between them crackled with the tension from the lobby scene they'd just seen.

"You didn’t like her," Alex said softly. He avoided direct eye contact; rather, he studied her image in the mirror, noting her chest's quick rises and falls.

"She was overstepping," Heena answered. She smoothed her skirt, her tone firmer than her inner turmoil.

"Or you’re just jealous?" Alex shifted closer, his aura dominating the tight confines. Their stares held via the reflection, an unspoken exchange across the glass.

"Why would I be jealous?" she shot back fast, the rebuttal edgier than planned.

She couldn't pinpoint her odd behavior... maybe the ghost of Howard and Siobhan, or how the desk girl had eyed Alex like prey.

"She was hungry," Alex amended, a wicked, hunter's spark in his gaze. He positioned himself at her rear, his strong grip claiming her hips.

"Mmm..." Heena's head lolled onto his shoulder while he planted fierce, heated kisses down her neck and collarbone.

Her eyes shut, legs almost giving out from his rough stubble scraping her tender flesh.

"But don’t worry, Professor," he breathed into her ear. "I have a very specific appetite tonight. And she’s not on the menu."

Hearing her title... the barrier she'd wielded to push him away... ignited the blaze. Fury at Howard merged with the wild, forbidden craving Alex stirred, erupting into pure fire.

Heena refused to merely yield this time around. With a fierce twist in his embrace, her actions became wild, driven by a fresh wave of urgency.

Alex barely had time to notice the shift before she seized his jacket's lapels and yanked him close, her lips slamming into his with a hungry, eager force.

For a split second, Alex froze, his eyes flaring wide in momentary shock at her bold move.

The surprise vanished in an instant. A deep, primal rumble escaped him as he crushed her against his body, his arms encircling her like steel cables.

Into that kiss, Heena unleashed it all—her sense of betrayal, her rage, and the frightening truth that she craved this beyond anything in her once-secure, dull existence.

No more was she the helpless pawn in his schemes; now she lunged toward the flames with open arms, begging to feel the scorch.

Alex's hands slid from her waist, his fingers gripping the plush swells of her backside, drawing her so near that every rigid contour of him pressed into her.

Their tongues clashed in a wild, urgent dance; no one backed down, both savoring the tang of her tears and the blaze of her abrupt, shadowy change.

At last, they parted, leaving only their harsh, uneven breaths echoing in the mirrored confines.

Heena's lips were puffy, her eyes foggy with a perilous blend of thrill and lust. She rested her forehead on his chest, her fingers clenched hard in his jacket's lapels.

"Why—" she hesitated, her breath catching as she struggled for words. "Why did you have the girl give Howard a room right next to ours?"

She lifted her gaze to his, her face twisted with bewilderment and residual pain. "Do you want me to hear them, Alex? Is that it?"

"What, are you afraid of him?" Alex mocked lightly, his tone a deep, teasing purr. He extended a hand, his thumb stroking her lower lip's swell while a lazy, smug grin spread over his features.

Heena's face darkened, her eyes shifting to their mirrored images. There was the Professor she'd once been—poised, admired, secure—contrasted against the red-faced, gasping woman now clutched by a student in this hourly-rate motel.

"I’m not afraid, Alex." she murmured, her tone sharpening with a sharp, bitter clarity.

"Good," he whispered. "Because I’m not hiding you, Heena."

He eased back slightly to gaze at her fully... just as he'd eyed her throughout the night, like a prize he'd claimed for himself.

"That man shared fifteen years with the most captivating woman in every space he entered," he stated softly. "Yet he overlooked her through all those years."

He gave a faint shake of his head.

"I want you to see what he missed. I want you to grasp precisely who you truly are, not the version he convinced you to accept."

Heena fixed her stare on him.

Her throat constricted. Not due to sorrow. But from an emotion so long absent she'd lost its name.

"And the room next door?" she questioned.

"Let him hear," Alex replied plainly. "Let him lie awake tonight and at last comprehend what he discarded."

The elevator pinged... a crisp, courteous tone announcing their stop at the twelfth floor.

Doors glided apart, exposing the quiet, plush hallway where the explosive clash of her history and destiny lurked behind a pair of separate doors.

***

Howard and Siobhan arrived at the third floor, the passage softened by dense, red carpeting that seemed more stifling than opulent.

While Howard inserted the key card into their executive suite's lock, Siobhan stood firm in the hallway's midst, arms folded across her chic gown.

Her discontent showed plainly in the tight set of her lips.

"Darling, please..." she started, her words fading into a petulant complaint devoid of true charm.

"Why can’t we go to the Presidential Suite for once? This room is just... tired. At least let’s be on that floor. The view is better, the air is cleaner..."

Howard pivoted, eyeing her for an extended moment. He combed fingers through his hair, his thoughts already tallying the night's costs.

He sought only pleasure; why splurge? A Presidential Suite ran several times the price of this one, and with lights dimmed, any bed served for Howard.

"Don’t worry," Howard assured, his voice offhand as he swung the door wide. "I’ll book it for our next visit. I promise. Besides, I have already prepared the things you asked for last time."

He flashed a flirtatious wink, anticipating her entry, yet Siobhan's expression stayed stormy. She appeared far from pleased, her gaze fixed on the elevators as though she deserved a spot far above.

But prior to stepping into the room, a voice cut through from behind, keen and faintly winded.

"Sir! Madam! Wait!"

Synchronized by a mutual spark of irritation, Howard and Siobhan whipped around together.

A young woman in the hotel uniform stood several meters back, her bosom rising and falling rapidly, as though she had dashed the full span of the hallway to intercept them.

"Is there a problem?" Howard inquired, his brows furrowing with clear vexation.

"Quite the opposite, Mr. Sterling," the attendant gasped, straightening her skirt while swiftly reclaiming her honeyed poise.

"I observed that you appeared... uncertain regarding your present room. Luckily, management has approved an exclusive upgrade reserved for our premier guests."