Chapter 6 - The Unraveling
Patrick tried to stand up, but his legs were shaking so badly his knee slammed hard into the underside of the black marble desk, rattling the keyboard. He didn't even wince from the pain. He clutched the edge of the counter, his knuckles turning stark white as he looked at Clara Vance—the sole heir and majority shareholder of Vance International Hotels, the woman whose late father’s portrait hung in the main boardroom upstairs.
"M-Ms. Vance..." Patrick stammered, his arrogant composure crumbling into pathetic terror. His lips trembled, unable to form coherent words. "I... I didn't recognize... The dress... The child... We get so many scam artists... I was only trying to protect the property's standard..."
Clara didn't cut him off. She let him stammer. She let him dig his own grave deeper with every stuttered excuse. The quiet in the lobby was absolute, broken only by the slight rustle of Lily’s fluffy cardigan as Clara gently adjusted her grip on her daughter.
Lupita took a step forward, looking directly at Patrick with utter disgust. "You didn't look at her reservation because you judged her coat. You judged her child. You judged her weakness, without realizing that true power doesn't need to dress up for a front desk clerk."
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"I... I can fix this!" Patrick gasped, frantically hitting buttons on his keyboard, accidentally closing windows and opening error prompts in his panic. "I'll upgrade you! I'll get the presidential suite prepared immediately! I'll call the general manager down!"
👉 Clara took a single step closer to the marble desk, her quiet presence silencing Patrick’s panicked babbling instantly.
