Jason kept scrolling through the listings until one caught his eye. The photo showed a tall glass building with gold trim and an entrance so polished it looked unreal.
'Wonderful. I'm sure the price will be just as wonderful,' he thought with a faint scowl.
The name read Lumine Grand Hotel, followed by a long description full of pretentious luxury phrases that tried too hard to sound elegant. Even so, it was the only five-star hotel in town, and the photos suggested it might actually live up to its reputation. The reviews were mostly from women posting pictures of candlelit dinners and poolside lounges, their captions full of glowing praise. He decided he would find out for himself whether the praise was real or just another online illusion.
Jason checked the rates and almost burst into laughter.
'What the fuck?'
Six thousand dollars for two nights?
For a bed and maybe a bar of soap wrapped in gold foil?
He stared at the digits for a long moment before shrugging. The system's promised reward made the cost look insignificant. Two nights would be enough, especially if Angela chose to meet later. Still, he knew she would come the moment he asked, unaware that her so-called admirer was her own stepbrother.
Jason also reminded himself that once he arrived, he had to resist the urge to haggle.
'Keep your dignity, Jason. You're supposed to be the man of all women. Stay composed and don't cheapen yourself.'
He called a taxi immediately and waited near the main street.
The ride took less than fifteen minutes, and he paid thirty dollars for it. When the car stopped, Jason found himself standing before the building from the photos. The entrance gleamed beneath the afternoon light, with wide glass doors and marble pillars rising elegantly. Two female hotel staff stood by the entrance in fitted uniforms, greeting each guest that passed. Inside, the lobby was immaculately polished. The floor reflected the chandeliers above, the reception counter shone as if it were waxed every minute, and the space was filled with women, some chatting and others working on laptops, all dressed as though they were part of a fashion shoot. Most were mature and curvaceous, while others were strikingly voluptuous. He could easily infer that no woman had come here to meet a man; most were likely staying for leisure or business with their own kind.
Heads turned when he entered, though no one spoke. He knew the attention came from their surprise at seeing a man, much like the women at the gym earlier. Besides, Jason was still dressed as he had been after leaving there, since he had not gone home yet.
On his phone, within the Kao Live app, he had about nine messages from Angela, each one filled with greetings and eager follow-ups, almost as if she were desperate for his attention. He had yet to reply, just as he had ignored the other two hundred messages from random users and women alike.
He walked directly to the reception desk, where a woman in a tailored suit looked up with a composed smile.
"Good afternoon, sir. Welcome to Lumine Grand Hotel. How may I assist you?" Her tone remained polite, though her expression subtly shifted when her eyes met his face. It was that familiar flicker of surprise he always saw in this town—the reaction of someone realizing they were looking at an actual man, and a strikingly handsome one at that.
Jason rested both hands on the counter.
"Hi. I'd like to book a room for two nights."
It was his first time checking into a hotel, and while he wasn't sure about the exact formalities, he knew he didn't need to add anything else.
"Certainly," she replied smoothly, quickly regaining her composure. "Would you prefer a regular suite or one of our premium accommodations?"
Jason lifted an eyebrow.
"What's the most expensive option available?"
Her fingers paused above the keyboard for a brief moment before she replied:
"That would be the Royal Orchid Suite, sir. Six thousand dollars for two nights. It includes a private lounge, balcony, and full-service access. Meals and drinks are not included in that rate."
'Oh, so that's the one in the photos? Great. I thought it was one of the cheaper ones, but even then, that price is absurd,' he thought, though he kept his expression neutral.
Jason gave a single, measured nod.
"I'll take it."
Her eyes lifted with a trace of disbelief flickering across her face before she straightened her posture again.
"Very well, sir. May I have your name for the reservation?"
"Jason Brown."
She began typing, her polished nails tapping rhythmically against the keys.
"Alright, Mr. Brown. May I see your ID and your preferred payment method?"
He handed her his card and identification, both taken from his bag. He had prepared them earlier, anticipating he might decide on a hotel stay, though he had kept his options open. She processed the payment in silence, her expression professional even as her eyes briefly lingered on the ID that confirmed he was a native of the city, not a visitor.
When the machine beeped, she returned the card along with a sleek folder containing his key card and receipt.
"Your suite is on the twelfth floor, room 1201. The elevator is just past the lounge on your left. Do you require assistance with your luggage?"
"I'm good. I only have one bag," he replied, adjusting the strap on his shoulder.
"Oh, I see. Very well. Please enjoy your stay, Mr. Jason."
Jason decided immediately that he would invite Angela over the next morning. That also meant he would remain in the hotel until his two days were up. Of course, he would have to inform Marinette, make up a believable story, and buy himself the time he wanted. He was an adult and didn't need permission to do as he pleased, but it was better they knew he would be away so no one assumed something had happened to him.
He thanked the receptionist and turned toward the lounge, passing a small group of women who tried not to stare. One leaned toward another, whispering something quickly before pretending to scroll through her phone.
Jason ignored them completely and continued toward the elevator. When it arrived a few moments later, he stepped in alone and pressed the button for the twelfth floor.
The ride up was quiet except for the faint instrumental music drifting through the speakers. When the elevator doors opened, he stepped into a hallway covered in thick carpet and lit with soft golden light. His suite was at the far end, and when he unlocked the door, the sight that greeted him made him stop in disbelief.
"Goddamn! What kind of suite is this? It looks like it was designed entirely for sex," Jason muttered with a low whistle, both amused and stunned.
The room was vast, large enough to pass for a small apartment. A full glass wall revealed the city skyline, glittering under the afternoon sun. The bed was enormous, dressed in layers of crimson sheets folded with near military precision. A sleek lounge occupied the corner, complete with a minibar stocked to the brim.
He placed his bag beside the couch and walked up to the window, his reflection blending with the city lights. Everything screamed luxury, to the point it was difficult to tell where elegance ended and excess began. Sitting down, he pulled out his phone. Angela would certainly be impressed, and this setting was ideal for what he had in mind. All that remained was to put the plan in motion.
He reached for the landline and dialed the front desk. A woman's composed voice answered almost instantly.
"This is the front desk. How may I assist you, Mr. Jason?"
'Wait, how does she know it's me? Does the phone have numbers tied to each room?' he wondered before speaking into the receiver.
"I'd like to order some food and drinks."
"Of course, sir. Would you like me to send you the menu?"
"Just bring whatever's popular," he replied evenly. "Make it two full meals and something good to drink, nonalcoholic. I'm hungry."
Jason never liked alcohol, so the choice was simple.
"Yes, sir. I'll have that arranged right away."
He ended the call and leaned back on the couch. For a few minutes, he scrolled through his phone. Angela had messaged him again about five minutes earlier, but he ignored it for now. He checked his balance instead, making sure everything still looked right.
A knock came at the door. He rose and opened it to find a young woman in a crisp hotel uniform standing beside a silver cart. Two covered dishes sat on top, along with a bowl of fruit and a few bottles of fruit wine.
"Your order, sir," she said with a courteous smile. "Would you like me to set it on the table?"
"Yes, that's fine."
She arranged everything neatly, lifting the lids to reveal perfectly plated dishes that looked like something straight out of a commercial. Jason had no idea what half of it even was, but the aroma alone screamed money.
When she finished setting the table, she straightened and said casually, "That will be one thousand and twenty dollars, sir."
Jason froze.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"One thousand and twenty," she repeated, glancing at the receipt in her hand to make sure she wasn't mistaken.
He stared at the food again, then back at her, his hands rising slowly toward the table, mouth slightly open.
"This... t-this could feed a kingdom! Are you sure that's not the price for the entire kitchen staff too? Uh??"
He couldn't keep up the calm act anymore. At that moment, Jason's true self came through, and no amount of pretending could hide it.
Her face remained neutral.
"The total includes service charge and delivery."
'Delivery? From where? Antarctica??? Greenland? Where exactly!!??? And what fucking service charge!!?? What the fuck is that???!!'
Jason sighed, rubbing the side of his face.
"...Fine. Add it to my... umm... bill."
"Yes, sir."
She smiled, handed him the receipt, and left quietly.
Jason sat down and looked at the table again. The plates shimmered beneath the ceiling lights, and the fruit wine bottle probably cost enough to make a regular person cry. He poured himself a glass and took a sip, then shook his head.
"This tastes like rich people pretending to enjoy grape juice."
He picked up a fork and tried one of the dishes, then paused, staring at the plate with a solemn look.
"It's good, but I'm not sure it's a thousand dollars worth good. Fuck!"
He kept eating anyway, because wasting it would hurt more than the bill itself. Between bites, he opened his phone again and checked the time. There were still plenty of hours before evening. He could message Angela later, maybe slip in a subtle invitation. But first, he needed to text his stepmom.
For now, the place was ready, the food handled... well, his own at least. He would order another set when Angela arrived. The plan was in motion. Jason leaned back against the couch, releasing a faint hum.
"Six thousand for two nights and a thousand plus for food. Guess luxury has its own sense of humor."
He finished the meal, pushed the dishes aside, and looked around the suite again. Everything was spotless and perfectly arranged, almost too perfect. He couldn't decide if he should be impressed or uneasy that people actually lived surrounded by this kind of luxury. Still, he had what he needed: space, comfort, and a setting that could impress anyone, even Angela.
He stood up and stretched, walking toward the bedroom to inspect the rest of the suite. A large bathtub sat beside the glass wall, and across from it, a sleek television hung against the surface. He checked the time again and let out a quiet chuckle.
"If this mission doesn't work out, I'll at least get some proper sleep."
When evening came, Jason sat at the edge of the bed with his phone in hand and began typing a message for Angela. The text was short but deliberate, inviting her to the hotel and mentioning that he had come to town a week ago for work. Everyone knew Angela lived here, yet none of her online admirers ever dared to visit. They preferred to meet her somewhere outside the city if given the chance. Jason knew this would catch her completely off guard since her anonymous biggest spender was suddenly in her city, staying at the most expensive hotel around.
He stopped typing halfway and glanced at the half-empty bottle of wine on the table.
"I think I'm going to enjoy this more now."
A small smile formed on his lips as he sent the message. Within seconds, the screen lit up again. She had already read it and was typing a reply.