What Happens At The End Of 'Guest Privileges'?

Isabel Grace Smith woke up one morning with a handsome man in bed next to her. What happened is against her will, but she knows that she only did that to earn money for the medicine of her brother who has asthma. She left the man without waking him up. Until she found out that the Resorts she worked as a waitress was owned by Gideon Tyr Fierro—the man she had one night stand with. Will Gideon recognize her? How far will she go to avoid him? Is there a chance that a particular night will lead to them ending up more intimate?

Building an empire comes first. Or it did until I met her. My family’s billion-dollar hotel chain has been my life for as long as I can remember. Travel. Women. Wealth. That’s all I know, until fate grabs me by the throat and decides to not let up. She’s a beach body, a beautiful, curvy California girl who hasn't found the right person to give into yet. I would have felt the same, but something about her has me pacing the floor at night. And my father sent me out to her hotel specifically. The sly dog knowing that she’s exactly the woman I need in my future. But it’s not that easy. It never is. Not until our love produces a little one. Then everything changes. Especially me. Now I want more than just one night. I want forever.

Out of sheer kindness, I brought my drunk, heartbroken coworker home for the night after she'd been dumped. Little did I know, she'd treat my place like it was her own. "Isla, I gave my ex my whole paycheck. I'm just gonna stay here for the rest of the month. You've got this huge place all to yourself anyway—such a waste. It's perfect, we can keep each other company. And hey, no rent. You're already cooking for yourself, so what's one more plate, right?" I stopped typing and blinked, trying to process what she was saying. She kept going, "Don't worry, I'm not gonna take advantage—I'll chip in 2 bucks a day. Honestly, you must get so lonely living alone. Aren't I sweet for offering?" I just stared at her, barely holding back a laugh at her blatant audacity. That evening, I slipped out of the office early, went straight home, and deadbolted the door behind me. No matter how much she knocked and yelled from the hallway, I didn't budge. The next morning, she stormed over to my desk and slammed her hand on my cubicle wall, her tone dripping with accusation. "You were home last night—why didn't you open the door?! I had nowhere to go, had to crash at a hotel, and between that and food, I dropped 60 bucks. You owe me." She shoved her phone screen—payment receipts on full display—right in my face. I couldn't help it—I laughed out loud. If she wanted to play that game, fine. If she thought she could push me around, she was about to learn what real-world consequences looked like.

When I asked building management to reset the smart lock on the condo we had bought for our marriage, the technician hesitated before asking: "Ms. Foster, are you sure you want every user deleted? Sophie Clarke has administrator access, while you're listed as a temporary guest." I smiled. "Delete them. Don't leave anyone." The night before, stomach pain had left me crouching outside the elevator, my hands shaking as I entered the code, but the lock kept flashing ACCESS DENIED. I called Marcus Reed, and he lowered his voice on the other end. "Stop messing with the lock. Sophie just fell asleep. Her nerves are fragile, and the alarm will scare her awake." Sweat covered my forehead from the pain. "This is my home." He was silent for two seconds before answering with reproach in his voice. "She's only staying for a few days. Besides, don't you have the code? Don't embarrass her over something this small." Only later did I learn what "temporary" really meant. Her fingerprint had been placed first on the access list. Meanwhile, I was the name on the deed, yet I had been locked outside without even being able to reach my stomach medicine. I stared at the entry in the smart lock's activity log. [Marcus Reed removed Natalie Foster's emergency access at 11:48 p.m.] I didn't call him again. I simply paid off the home improvement loan early and contacted a realtor to put the condo back on the market. I no longer wanted the home that in my name. And I no longer wanted him.

The hotel calls me on the phone and tactfully reminds me that since I've forgotten to pay for the condoms I've used last night, they've deducted the sum from my VIP card. I'm a little perplexed, to say the least. Last night, I've taken on an overnight shift till late night, so I've never been to the hotel. So, I question my wife, Nyla Burdette, who's the only one that knows about my VIP card number. She just looks at me in confusion. "Honey, it costs over a thousand dollars to spend a night in that hotel! Why would I stay there, to begin with? There must be something wrong with the hotel's system!" I no longer waste my breath on Nyla. My oldest uncle, Eric Fuller, is the investor of that particular hotel, so I call him right away. "Uncle Eric, help me investigate who Nyla has taken to the hotel last night! I want to catch them in the act!"

When Avery Cole planned a graduation trip with her long-time boyfriend, she expected a romantic proposal under the stars. Instead, she caught him cheating the night before their flight. Determined not to waste the money, Avery embarks on the trip alone, only to face a string of misfortunes. Her worst humiliation? Being walked in on while pleasuring herself… by a stranger… who turns out to be the rightful occupant of her hotel room. Since every other room is fully booked, the smoking-hot stranger offers to share the space for the night. One poker game turns into strip poker, which turns into a night of passion Avery can’t forget. She leaves her number, hoping he’ll call, but he never does. Weeks later, Avery lands her dream job at a prestigious marketing firm, only to discover her new boss is none other than the man from that unforgettable night. Now, Avery must juggle professionalism with undeniable chemistry, while her mysterious boss seems to have secrets of his own.