Class Room Of The Elite Novelas e Histórias

Breaking the glass seemed impossible; it felt reinforced, bulletproof even. “Fuck,” he whispered, breath fogging the glass. He turned and scanned the rest of the room. A sleek modern dresser. A walk-in closet partially open, revealing rows of dark clothing that definitely didn’t belong to him. A luxurious en-suite bathroom visible through an open doornblack marble, rainfall shower, deep soaking tub. Everything screamed money and control. Eli’s gaze landed on the bedroom door. He rushed toward it, bare feet silent on the floor. His hand closed around the ornate handle and pushed down.

He gave my hand a sharp, silent squeeze. "The Strategy Room is in the east wing," Elira noted, pointing down a corridor lined with tapestries. "As are the training pits, the war-room, and the private theater. The kitchens are west, but you shouldn't need to hunt for your own meals here. Pick up any house-link and press 2 for service. There is a full bar in the Strategy Room and another in the banquet hall." "An actual theater?" I asked, my voice echoing in the high ceiling. "In a private residence?"

My room was on the fourth floor, surrounded by marble floors so clear I could see my reflection, and Eutopia of magnificent-looking architecture. The railings bordering every floor changed color the higher you got. Black at the ground, grey on the second, white at the third, and glittering gold at mine. I almost felt special. Almost. But I didn't come down hear for sightseeing, or putting on this lingerie that was a bit too perfectly fitted to be a coincidence. “Room 66, huh” I muttered after another glance after another glance after the extra information Miss Optimus Prime had given me at the entrance.

Elliot leaned closer to Timothy as they walked toward a private elevator. “Do they always look like they’re about to get fired?” he whispered. Timothy pressed a button. “Yes.” The elevator doors closed. Elliot watched the digital display climb rapidly. Floor 30. Floor 50. Floor 70. “Please don’t tell me you live at the top,” Elliot said. “Penthouse.” “Of course.” The elevator opened into an enormous living space. Floor-to-ceiling windows wrapped around the entire room, offering a breathtaking view of the city below. Modern furniture sat perfectly arranged across the polished floor, and everything looked so clean and expensive that Elliot felt afraid to touch anything.

I placed my hand on the door knob and a tab installed on the wall lit up. ‘Your name please’ the screen requested. A flash second later, I imputed ‘Mrs Chelsea Ricci’. ‘Try again.’ It refreshed. Damn it. ‘Mrs Chelsea Star Ambers- Rutherford.’ I typed carefully. ‘Come in.’ The door opened and I stepped into the room. My heart got caught in my throat at the scenery. If it’s not matte black, it’s diamond, if it’s not diamond it’s gold, if it’s not gold it’s marble, if it’s not marble it’s fine wood. Ricci’s room is nothing short of luxury and I love it!

Vanya remarked. "As the owner, my space should stand out," Edwin said. Vanya inwardly rolled her eyes—of course, as the boss, he was always right. The EliteHaven Hotel was L.A.'s largest business hotel, already top-notch. This room, however, surpassed even the presidential suite in luxury. Vanya asked, "What's your assistant handling?" "Someone caused a scene downstairs. He's dealing with it and should return soon," Edwin replied indifferently, then invited her, "Coffee?"

I knew what all 'fun' things the elites do over here. I was on high alert especially when I ran my eyes on the silver slate that was transfixed right behind the receptionist. The layout of the clubhouse was mentioned starting from the bar to the most expensive private rooms located on the 9th floor. I was taken to an elevator and the maid pressed number 9. Fuck! Was I really going to meet random men in a private room? Oh no! Looking at the maids suspiciously, I said, "Where are you taking me? I want to go to the bar!"

Crimson fiddles with the bunch of keys once again, the clinking of objects against each other disturbing the girl's sensitive ears. The room they are in is sterile, empty, and without color or smell. The white walls and equally white floor welcome the pair. The only thing that is certainly noticeable are the bars of the cell at the back of the room. And sitting with her knees close to her chest was Margaret's murderer. Crimson once again mutters: "Anything, call me." He closes the door. Emanuele takes two steps toward the bars, the sound of her shoes echoing through the room.

The room isn't pink because it's mixed with white somehow, but I feel like it's Barbie's room instead of a person's. "By the way, my room is just opposite your room. And soon you will meet all the members of the Elite Circle." It promised. Thank you I see that jerk again. Why is it necessary for him to be part of the Elite? Is he not content with being Royals? Is it really necessary? But with that arrogance, it's no wonder. He feels that all the girls like him, why would a handsome man stab him? Ha! Yes, he's handsome, but his attitude is worth it! I haven't moved on from his accusation that I am attracting him. Ha! Am I the one to seduce? I don't even know how to do that! That bad trip is r

Because every movement will be monitored through the mirror, shoplifters or johns can't do that despicable act in the elevator. The eighth floor is the most luxurious. There is a particular VIP room for unique membership card holders and a rooftop that can be used for parties. In front of the VIP room, two bronze statues welcome the two of them, and inside there is also a long sofa and several other rooms. According to Camilla, there is a theatre room where you can watch movies. Nicko was silent while admiring what he saw in front of him. It was truly luxurious, and honestly, it was the first time he had seen such an elegant room.