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 started, her tone shifting to a secretive velvet whisper that skipped right past Howard to flatter Siobhan’s ego directly.

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

A fierce, sudden hunger sparked in Siobhan’s eyes. "Really?"

"Yes. It’s—"

"What do you mean by ’upgrade’?" Howard cut in sharply, his voice slicing through the smooth persuasion like a ledger-balancing blade. "I’ve been coming here for a year. Why haven’t I heard about this before?"

Arms folded tightly across his chest, he stood firm, suspicion burning bright. He detected a sales snare, and Howard Sterling always boasted of laying traps himself, never tumbling into others.

’This tightwad,’ the lady thought with inner scorn, her eyes flicking over his wary, mid-level manager stance. Yet her expression stayed a flawless shield of courteous charm.

"Sir, The Red Rose from time to time provides these elite packages to our top-tier clients," she replied steadily. "As a regular and prized visitor, the manager chose personally to offer you this perk tonight."

Siobhan’s hand clamped onto Howard’s arm at once, fingers digging in with the silent insistence of someone who’d craved the twelfth floor forever.

Howard sensed the grip but brushed it aside. No way was he letting a hotel staffer with a clipboard and script push him around.

"How much?" he demanded bluntly.

"I beg your pardon?"

"The price. The sneaky fee. The small print." He waved dismissively. "What’s the catch?"

The lady paused just long enough to let awkwardness creep in, making him regret the question a bit.

"Sir, this upgrade is entirely free of charge. Not a single rupee more from you." A sharp, victorious grin pulled at her mouth. "Plus, it comes with top-shelf room service and extras."

Howard’s brows leaped upward.

"Really? For free?" Siobhan queried.

"Yes, Ma’am," the lady responded, pivoting back to Siobhan. "The twelfth floor awaits preparation right now. I’ll escort you both personally to confirm it matches your... exact preferences."

Siobhan let out a gasp, her prior pout dissolving into thin air. "The twelfth floor? The Presidential wing?"

"Not the Presidential Suite proper, Ma’am," the lady clarified, her voice tinged with feigned regret while inwardly sneering. ’The Presidential wing? You wouldn’t qualify for club level on your finest day, you petty climber.’

"A VVIP occupies the primary suite already. But we’ve cleared the adjoining Executive Room for you."

"The Executive wing is amazing, Howard! Come on, darling," Siobhan pressed, her tone bubbling with thrill.

For months, she’d fantasized about the twelfth floor, yet Howard’s budget had pinned them to cheaper floors. Now was her shot at magazine-style glamour... and she intended to splurge on every luxury from the menu once settled.

Howard glanced from one woman to the other. A persistent, uneasy twist gnawed at his stomach... an animal sense warning that ’free’ hid a cost.

Yet Siobhan’s face glowed with pure victory, signaling that refusal meant a fight instead of fun in bed.

Then a idea struck: the twelfth floor housed the big players. Up there, he could bump into a power contact, a tycoon to boost his career.

"Fine," Howard relented at last, tugging his jacket straight with a pompous flick. "Let’s head up. And tell the manager we appreciate this top-notch welcome."

The lady’s smile hid a cruel edge. She fully grasped the trap she led them to, knowing types like the Sterlings let greed trump gut feelings.

"Right this way, please," she purred, motioning toward the elevators with an elegant hand flourish. "We live to give our prized guests the treatment they merit."

***

A soft chime rang out as the elevator hit the twelfth floor.

Doors parted to unveil a realm worlds away from the bland halls downstairs.

Cool air carried sandalwood fragrance here, with silk-textured walls glowing under soft golden lights.

Heena emerged, her shoes sinking into thick, luxurious carpet. Dazed, her gaze roamed the authentic oil artworks and intricately carved mahogany tables.

Comfort had marked her life, but this soared to another realm of opulence... a lavishness that shamed the ordinary existence she’d endured for fifteen years.

Never had she envisioned finding herself in this place. Not in such a manner. Not alongside a student. Yet fate emerged as a ruthless, thrilling temptress.

Alex observed her briefly, noting the blend of wonder and persistent remorse in her gaze toward the lavish splendor.

Silently, he invaded her personal space. Before any objection could escape her, he slid one arm under her knees and the other about her waist, lifting her effortlessly into his embrace with a firm, virile grunt.

"Ahh!" Heena gasped, her hands clutching his shoulders for balance on instinct. The abrupt weightlessness churned her stomach, while cool air brushed her exposed thighs as her skirt rode up.

"Alex, put me down! Someone might see," she whispered urgently, her cheeks burning with intense, panicked red.

"Let them," Alex replied softly, his eyes fixed and intense as he pressed her close to his torso. He appeared not burdened but triumphant, like a conqueror with his prize. "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 gazed at him... tracing the firm edge of his jaw and the bold, guarding blaze in his stare. The professor within her struggled for a rebuttal, yet the transformed woman of this night quelled it.

This blaze was her choice. She had forsaken Howard Sterling's shadow for the devil's grasp. No point squandering this rebirth by holding onto a history that had deserted her.

A soft, shaky exhale escaped her as she surrendered to his hold, her fingers gripping the material of his jacket.

"Show me then," she murmured, her tone sharpening with fresh, daring determination.

A gradual, wolfish grin spread across Alex’s mouth.

He pivoted, bearing her toward the grand double doors of Suite 1201, his steps wide and assured.

He wasn’t merely guiding her to a chamber; he was leading her beyond the boundaries of her familiar realm, with zero plans to return her.

Alex bore her across the expansive, softly illuminated suite, where the room's hush magnified the steady beat of his heart beneath her hand.

He arrived at the towering glass panels and shouldered them aside, emerging onto the secluded balcony haven.

Gently, he set her down, his palms resting on her hips until her heels steadied on the chilled, sleek stone.

Heena edged cautiously to the rail, her breathing catching. The nighttime breeze felt unique at this elevation... far from the stale gusts below. It carried a luxurious chill, pure and pristine, like an elite feature for those who ascended so far.

The wind swept across her flesh, soothing the feverish warmth of her face and weaving through her locks, as though purging remnants of her former existence with each breeze.

She bent ahead, propping elbows on the metal railing. Beneath sprawled the metropolis, a vast, turbulent web of white and crimson glows.

The city pulsed at its typical, uncaring rhythm... travelers hurrying to homes, lamps blinking, existences unfolding in tiny, routine loops.

Nothing below had shifted, but from this vantage, it resembled a far-off recollection.

"It’s so quiet," she breathed, the urban din faded to a distant, wave-like murmur. "Everything looks so... insignificant."

"Because it is," Alex whispered, positioning himself behind her. He refrained from contact, yet his form eclipsed her, guarding against the endless skyline. "Down there, you’re just a part of the machinery. Up here, you’re the one looking down on it."

Heena shut her eyes, allowing the gusts to stroke her neck and the heightened sensitivity of her thighs. The fears anchoring her to the world below melted into the ebony heavens.

No longer merely a professor or spouse. She stood as a female on the brink of an unfamiliar domain, and the panorama was heady.

"I never realized how much I hated the ground," she declared, her words acquiring a sharp, determined clarity.

She spun to face him, her outline etched against the radiant cityscape. She ceased searching for the specter of the man probably entering the adjacent suite right now.

At last, her eyes rested on the one who had elevated her to these heights.