The moment I opened my eyes, I regretted it.
My head was pounding like someone had taken a jackhammer to my skull. My mouth was bone-dry, and my stomach felt like it was trying to escape my body. I was in a bed, the sheets smooth and cold. I closed my eyes again for a second. Shit. Where the hell was I?
Something stirred beside me.
I snapped my eyes open—and instantly wished I hadn't. The room spun. Slowly, I turned my head to see a man, face half-buried in a pillow, his bare chest rising and falling with steady breaths. Still asleep.
Good. Time to disappear.
Carefully, I slid out of bed. I was in nothing but my underwear. I spotted my dress tossed carelessly in the corner, next to my bag, and pulled it on fast. One shoe was in front of the bed. The other? Under the couch. I crawled to get it, holding back the urge to vomit.
Shoes in hand, I tiptoed out.
Only when the door clicked shut behind me did I dare slip them on. I barely made it to a nearby bush before my stomach gave up.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and pulled out my phone. Six missed calls from work. What day even was it?
I called them back, muttered something about a family emergency. Tried to minimize the damage.
Yes, I'd be back tomorrow. Yes, I knew the manager was furious and wanted to speak with me. I apologized again and hung up.
A cab pulled up. I got in, gave my address, paid immediately, and added a generous tip.
No questions.
I closed the door behind me and kicked off my heels the second I got home. Ran to the bathroom.
The next morning, I realized I'd been gone for two days. Time to deliver. The cool air in the hotel lobby calmed me. Manipulation was an art. And today, I had to wield the brush perfectly or risk walking out of here jobless. She was already waiting—my manager—in one of the small staff meeting rooms next to the reception. A woman in her fifties, always perfectly dressed, with a gaze sharp enough to cut glass. She could silence the most entitled guest with a look. But she was still human.
"Two days. Two full days with no word," she said, voice ice-cold. "I thought you took your job more seriously than that. I can't accept this behavior. What do you have to say?"
I let the silence breathe. Let it stretch. My face mirrored remorse, vulnerability, and just the slightest hint of desperation.
"My deepest apologies," I said softly, voice measured and low. "I know there's never a good time for something like this, but…"
I paused—like the words were hard to say.
"…it was personal."
Her brow arched.
"Personal? You do understand we work in hospitality. There are expectations. You don't just vanish. No matter what."
"I understand," I whispered, eyes dropping to the floor. "I've always tried to go above and beyond. But… I'm only human."
Two words that always struck the right chord. We've all made mistakes. Even her.
"There was a family emergency. I'd rather not go into the details, but it was serious."
She leaned back slightly in her chair. Still stern. Still calculating. But I knew that posture. I almost had her.
And then she asked the question I'd been bracing for.
"Why didn't you call?"
Bullseye.
"It happened so fast. I was overwhelmed. I know I should've called, and I'm so sorry. I didn't think—I just reacted. Please forgive me. I'll work twice as hard. I promise."
My shoulders sagged just enough to look sincere. A little self-blame always helped.
She sighed. Studied me.
"This cannot happen again. You understand what's at stake."
"Of course." My voice barely above a whisper. "I'll make it right."
The tightrope walk between professionalism and vulnerability was brutal—but I'd done it. She gave a final nod.
"Back to work, then. But I expect even more from you moving forward."
"Thank you," I said with a grateful smile. "You won't regret it."
I stood, bowed, and left the room as fast as I could without looking like I was running.
That had been too close.
I couldn't afford another slipup—not even being late. I had to hold this job. No matter what.
The anger I'd felt just days ago was now a dull ache.
No matter how hurt I was, I had to find out the truth.
Was there really another woman? Or were the rumors just that—rumors?
The door clicked shut behind me as I returned to the reception. I kept my expression neutral. Just a hint of apology.
"There you are. Just in time," my colleague said as I stepped behind the desk. "Good thing she didn't fire you. I have no clue where we'd get a replacement so fast. But anyway—have you heard?"
"Heard what?" I asked, faking interest.
My body still felt hollow. My bones carried the weight of the past few days.
"Nocturne landed about fifteen minutes ago," she said, eyes wide with excitement. She looked like one of them. The fanatics.
"They're already on the way here."
It felt like someone had punched me in the stomach.
Jhio.
He was back.
"That explains why everything's sparkling around here," I said, forcing a casual tone.
"Yeah, they've got the entire top floor reserved. Bet we won't even see them. Same as always—straight in, up the elevator, gone."
"Sure," I replied with a thin smile. "Let me check the guest list real quick."
In truth, I needed a break.
I stepped into the back section of the reception area—the only place where you could breathe without being watched—and leaned against the wall. Took a deep breath.
Tried to ignore the strange rush that came with the thought of seeing him again.
What the hell was wrong with me?
This wasn't the time for feelings. I needed control. Fast.
A moment later, I returned to the desk.
And then we heard it.
The screams.
Cameras flashing so violently, the light was visible even in broad daylight.
The revolving doors spun—and in they came. A sea of coats, designer bags, and sunglasses.
They were back.
Security cleared the entrance, blocking off the crowd. My eyes scanned the group until they landed on him.
Jhio.
His gaze swept the lobby like he was looking for something.
My fingers clenched on the counter. I forced my face to stay neutral. Friendly. Professional.
But my eyes followed him.
I couldn't help it.
Our eyes met.
No smile. No nod.
His steps slowed.
His expression darkened.
Anger?
What the hell had happened?
His girlfriend?
In the next second, the elevator doors closed behind them.
I stared blankly for a moment, lost in the mess inside my chest, then forced myself back into the present.
Now was not the time to slip.
Tonight, I promised myself.
Tonight, I'd find out what happened.
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Thank you for reading, you quiet eyes in the shadows. Another part drops tonight. And yes – it's for you. <3