White Room Classroom Of Elite Novels & Stories

Celestin was walking in the hallway when she passed by the Elites. And by Elites, it means her so-called friends. They're only seven in that class because it is specifically for the chosen ones only. Other classes are named Class A, B, C, so on, and so forth. They also saw her and expected her to halt and apologize but, instead of stopping, she deliberately ignored them without even sparing a glance. Thankfully, Trent wasn't there, or else she'll be in a bad mood again.

These girls will learn to fall in line where I'm concerned whether they like it or not. I enter my room and dim it of its bright light. Their Cologne fills up the room and my pussy purrs to life

Elena nodded, clutching her file tightly. “Elevator to the fifth floor, conference room B,” the woman said smoothly. Elena took the elevator with a few other early arrivals, a mix of nervous-looking students in freshly ironed shirts and ill-fitting blazers. She tried to breathe normally, but the elevator seemed to shrink around her as they ascended. The doors opened with a soft chime. “Conference Room B,” someone murmured. Elena followed the small group down a pristine hallway lined with artwork and expensive furniture. When they reached the glass-walled room, they found a long sleek table surrounded by modern chairs. A tray of pastries and bottles of water sat untouched at the end.

Chapter 16: Pretty Things and Loaded Guns The conference hall was nothing like Elena expected. No dark smoky corners. No half-naked women straddling laps. No piles of cash or brick-sized drug bags. This was… organized. Polished. Terrifying. The room stretched wide, lit by golden chandeliers and long beams of cold light. Heavy oak tables formed a long horseshoe, surrounded by tall-backed leather chairs. In the center of the room stood a digital warboard screen displaying global maps, tactical models, and red flashing points that made Elena’s chest tighten.

He had taken me back into the mansion, through the various hallways upstairs till we stopped at the elevator, then we headed downwards. “Every person of power has one little space, where they work it out, draw information, get answers to political and war issues, or anything relating to the enemy.” He said as we strolled through the hallways, then stopped at the door at its extreme. “This is ours.” he said pushing it open, “The white room” introducing me to blood, torture and hell's portal. It was simply a large dark room, with two chairs, a sink at the farthest end of the room, and a table filled with several tools. Today, I strolled through that same hallway with Caden, Reid and Calum, rea

I whispered back, amazed at how nobody else could hear my pulse pounding. The metal door swings open, presenting a formal meeting room. Beige of course but the full length of the chamber is covered in dark wooden bookshelves. Hundreds of leather-bound tomes cover the walls, curving around three large pits. Those pits are also lined with bookshelves. “I don’t like coming in here but it’s the only place with real privacy,” Elvie noted, as we all stood around a large mahogany table, nobody taking a seat. “What did it used to be?” I asked, in a feeble attempt to break the ice between us.

Dennis suddenly stopped at a certain room. "This is my classroom." he enunciated. Bella's eyes instantly read the placard on the door. The room is section 3-B. "You're in 3-B? You belong to the second smartest class, huh?" she said, while feeling a bit impressed. There are still a lot of things that she don't know about Dennis. There were 14 desks and seats inside. The room was spacious enough and it looks clean and neat. Bella noticed that Dennis was already seated at the desk at the corner part of the classroom, just beside the window.

The lobby of the End-User Group Headquarters was a cathedral of "Polished Reality." There were no flickering pixels here, no low-res textures, and no scent of ozone. The floor was solid white Carrara marble, and the air smelled of expensive sandalwood and the sterile, pressurized chill of a high-altitude boardroom.

Elara followed, her fingers brushing the cold metal frame as she crossed into the hidden room. The air was cool and still, carrying no scent of use. Kai moved carefully along the wall, finding a control switch. The room lit up in soft, low lights, just enough to see what was inside. Elara expected food supplies. Weapons. A bed. A first-aid station. Anything a panic room should have. She didn’t expect this. The room was larger than she imagined, almost the size of a small studio. Along the right wall stood several screens, all turned off. A long desk. A secure computer unit. Shelves lined with sealed boxes. And on the far wall—

Inside the VIP Room The VIP room was eerily quiet, the soft lighting casting a serious, almost foreboding mood. The pale walls reflected the dim light, giving the room a cold, heavy ambiance that could make anyone anxious. Levie stood in one corner, holding the documents that eased his worries, while Dr. Teresita approached slowly. A faint smile graced her lips—one that carried hidden emotions and the weight of an order that contradicted her principles.