Bella didn't waste time.
The moment she stepped into the hotel, her smile was weaponized.
She scanned the lobby like it was a ballroom. Not for aesthetics, no. She was hunting. Every staff member was a potential crack in the wall. And she had no problem slipping right through.
It started with the bellboy.
He barely looked eighteen. Nervous hands, soft voice, trying too hard to be professional.
Bella brushed his arm as she handed over her bags, leaned in close enough for her perfume to brand him.
"Tell me," she whispered sweetly, as if they were trading secrets over dessert, "which room will the CEO be using during the charity auction?"
He blinked fast. "Ma'am, I...I'm not allowed to-"
Her fingers slid a folded bill into his palm. Not petty cash. Enough to shut down his common sense for a few seconds.
"I know," she smiled. "But accidents happen."
She walked away without waiting for confirmation. Just left him there, sweating, stunned, bills in hand.
Next was the front desk attendant.
Bella didn't even bother with subtlety. She waited until no one was in line, stepped in with her fake politeness, and leaned over the counter like they were old friends.
"Hi. I heard the Citadel CEO usually stays in this hotel during events like this." A warm laugh followed. "I mean, of course he does. Look at this place."
The woman blinked, lips twitching. "I'm afraid I can't disclose any information-"
Another bill slid discreetly across the counter. Bella tilted her head, letting her sunglasses drop low on her nose just enough for her eyes to flash.
"Let me know when he checks in. And if his room needs… a welcome gift."
The attendant hesitated. But the money disappeared.
Bella knew the signs. That meant yes.
The waiter she caught next.
Mid-shift, wheeling out an empty cart from one of the banquet halls.
She cornered him with a fake compliment about the wine list, then twisted the conversation.
"I heard the VIP floor has a private wine cellar. Is that true?"
"I...I'm not supposed to talk about-"
A manicured hand brushing his wrist. A card slipped into his apron. Another whisper.
"I just want to be prepared. In case I want to surprise the CEO with something... vintage."
Again, hesitation. But again, silence took the bribe.
Bella walked away from all of them smiling.
By the time she reached her suite, she had three sources. One confirmed the CEO was due to arrive tomorrow afternoon. Another promised to text the moment his reservation was checked in. The last hinted at the general floor he'd be placed on.
She was closing in.
All without lifting a finger in violence. Just charm. Lies. Money.
Bella took off her coat in her suite and dropped onto the velvet chaise. Her Omega assistant moved to unpack her bags, while the timid Beta set down her tablet and began sorting files.
Everything was going according to plan.
The CEO would arrive.
She would intercept him before anyone else could.
And by the time the auction night arrived, she'd be on his arm, or in his bed.
What she didn't know,
Was that someone else had already done all of this.
Faster. Cleaner. Smarter.
And was already watching her play catch-up in a race she'd already lost.
Krishna never needed to bribe anyone.
She was the reason others were bribed.
By morning, Bella had everything in place.
The charity auction would begin later that night, but her real game started hours earlier. While other guests preened for the cameras and prepared their evening gowns, Bella was busy fitting herself into something far more dangerous, control.
The front desk had slipped the room number to her just after dawn. No fuss, no witnesses. Just a folded note tucked inside her newspaper at breakfast. She didn't even need to look at it; she already knew the CEO would be staying on the thirty-fourth floor. But confirmation was always delicious.
She had studied his patterns.
Businessmen were creatures of habit. If she showed up in his room mid-morning, while the event crew kept him distracted with prep and press, she could leave her impression before any of the other women got the idea.
Bella didn't want attention.
She wanted possession.
Her assistants were briefed. The Omega stayed in the suite, prepping outfits for tonight. The Beta left to scout the ballroom. Bella, meanwhile, dressed down into a sleek staff uniform, black slacks, pressed white shirt, hair pinned into a bun.
No makeup. Just tinted balm. Light blush. Innocent, unthreatening. Serviceable.
She'd learned men liked it better when they thought they were the one chasing.
She folded the room service tray herself, complete with vintage wine, a handwritten card forged in delicate calligraphy, and a cloche-covered dish of imported foie gras, extravagant enough to seem real, yet discreet enough to pass through the floor guards unnoticed.
The hotel's internal systems were easy to manipulate. She'd bribed a backroom staffer to slide her "delivery" onto the books for Room 3407.
No one asked why the CEO was receiving his brunch late.
No one asked why the server had no ID badge.
No one looked closely at her face.
By the time the elevator dinged on the thirty-fourth floor, Bella's lips were curved into a knowing smile.
She could already picture it.
The CEO surprised. Pleased. Impressed by her boldness. A quick drink. A few words. An invitation for more.
She checked her reflection in the silver tray's dome. Perfect.
Then she knocked on the door.
Soft. Polite. The kind of knock that said, I belong here.
Silence followed.
Then the sound of footsteps, calm, deliberate.
Bella took a breath.
Tonight, she'd dazzle the crowd. But this morning?
She'd already won.
Or so she thought.