Chapter Two - His Reason

The moment she turned the lock...

'Why did I just do that? panic seized her.'

Outside, the door handle rattled. Someone knocked, trying to force the door open, before a woman's voice cursed in frustration.

"Seems like the door is locked," the woman said.

"Locked?" a male voice responded, knocking firmly against the panel.

Vanessa’s heart pounded violently against her ribs.

"Is this the right room?" the man asked.

"It says so on the keycard," the female voice replied. "Please wait here, sir. I'll go check with the manager."

Vanessa's mind went completely blank. 'What am I going to do now?'

"What's taking her so long?" another voice muttered outside.

After a few agonizing moments, the sound of footsteps began fading down the hallway. 'They're gone.'

Gently, Vanessa turned the knob and cracked the door open. She peeped outside into the quiet corridor to make sure no one was present.

"Thank God," she breathed out in sheer relief. She quickly gathered her cleaning supplies and rushed out, shutting the room door firmly behind her.

Without looking where she was going, Bang!

She crashed headfirst into someone's broad chest. The cleaning supplies slipped from her hands, clattering loudly across the floor. An intoxicating scent, rich, expensive cedarwood, instantly wrapped around her senses.

"I'm so sorry!" she blurted out, dropping her head in sheer panic. Seeing the mess she had made against his leather shoes, she didn’t dare look up.

'Those look insanely expensive,' she thought, her stomach twisting.

"It's okay," a smooth male voice answered above her.

Vanessa’s brows pulled together in confusion. 'Do I know that voice? And his perfume?' She shook the thought off immediately. 'As if!'

Quickly dropping to her knees, she used a part of her uniform to wipe the dust off his shoes. "I'm so, so sorry!" she apologized again, scrambling to her feet and darting into her assigned room without looking back once.

Devian turned his head, watching the small figure scramble frantically into Room 116. The corners of his lips lifted into a subtle, amused smile.

"Isn't that my little wifey?" he murmured under his breath, chuckling softly. 'So clumsy.'

As he turned back around, the smile vanished instantly, replaced by his signature stern, unapproachable expression. Looking at him now, he was a complete contrast to the man who had been smiling just a second ago. He exuded an overwhelming don't-come-near-me aura.

"Mr. Ashford," a female voice called out.

He stopped, but didn't bother turning to face her. "Any updates?" he asked, his tone calm and completely devoid of emotion.

"Yes, sir. We've been assigned another room. Everyone is waiting for you," Rosa, his secretary, replied, bowing her head. "This way, sir."

He turned around and took a step forward, but halted when she didn't move past him. Rosa paused as well, wondering what the issue was.

"Why are you standing behind me, Rosa?" he asked smoothly. She blinked in confusion.

"Am I supposed to know where the meeting room is?" he added, his voice still low and composed.

Realization dawned on her instantly. "Oh... yes, sir. My apologies. I—"

"That's enough," he cut her off, annoyance lacing his tone.

Rosa immediately stepped in front to lead the way, while Devian followed behind in towering silence.

************

[ Meeting Room ]

Inside the executive conference room, men and women dressed in tailored corporate suits sat stiffly around a glass table, every single one of them looking tense. The moment the doors opened and Devian walked in, everyone immediately rose to their feet and bowed their heads.

No one dared to move until he pulled out his seat at the head of the table. Only after he sat down did the rest of the room follow suit.

Rosa remained standing respectfully at his left shoulder.

Devian sat in complete stillness for fifteen whole minutes without uttering a single word.

The suffocating silence alone was enough to make every executive in the room sweat. Some avoided his sharp gaze entirely, while others shifted uncomfortably in their chairs. Unable to endure the pressure any longer, a middle-aged man who held the title of regional manager stood up nervously.

"Sir... you called for this emergency meeting, but—"

"Mr. McAnthony," Devian interrupted coldly before the man could finish. "I speak when I want to speak. Sit."

Mr. McAnthony swallowed hard and sank back into his chair immediately, looking like a chastised schoolboy rather than a corporate director.

"What was our agreement?" Devian asked, leaning back.

"To capture Ms. Kourtney and bring her to you sir. But sir... we caught her, only to be ambushed by a group of heavily armed men. We were caught off guard," Mr. McAnthony explained, his voice trembling slightly.

Devian stared at him without a single trace of emotion. "Do you know the one thing I despise most in this world?" he asked the room at large. Dead silence fell over the conference table.

"Excuses," Devian spat out, disgust written across his face. "So... you wasted my time. I am a busy man, Mr. McAnthony. Never summon me for something you haven't secured."

He stood up abruptly, and every person in the room scrambled to stand as well.

"I will be expecting flawless results," he stated, buttoning his jacket. "And I shouldn't need to tell you when."

Without another word, Devian turned and strode out of the room, his security guards trailing closely behind.

Taking the private elevator down to the ground level, they found the hotel general manager, Mr. Elliot, standing near the glass doors with sweat glistening on his forehead. Mr. Elliot accompanied them out toward the executive valet parking area, stepping close to Devian as they reached his sleek black sedan.

"I deeply apologize for the room mix-up earlier, Mr. Ashford. It won't ever happen again," Mr. Elliot stammered nervously, visibly terrified of losing his job.

Rosa stepped forward to open the luxury car door. Devian glanced at his secretary before stepping into the back seat without giving Mr. Elliot a single look. As far as Devian was concerned, the man didn't exist.

"It's alright, Mr. Elliot. The situation was handled, so there's no need to panic," Rosa offered with a polite, reassuring smile before taking her seat in the front passenger side.

"Thank you... thank you so much," Mr. Elliot breathed in immense relief, bowing repeatedly as the car sped away.