All Chapters of WRONG ROOM : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

The grand ballroom of the Royal Meridian Hotel glittered under enormous crystal chandeliers that hung from the vaulted ceiling like frozen waterfalls of light. The hall was elegant, with its decorations of gold and ivory. Soft classical music wafted through the air as waiters moved gracefully among hundreds of influential guests already gathered inside. Politicians, investors, celebrities, business executives, and hotel owners. The most powerful people in Dameland's hospitality industry all gathered under one roof. Backstage, however, the atmosphere was considerably less glamorous. More than thirty Stewart Crown Resort executives stood in a private preparation lounge, making final adjustments before entering the gala. Some checked their ties. Others adjusted their gowns. A few nervously reviewed guest lists one final time. Claire stood near the center of the room holding a tablet while trying to organize everyone. "Listen up, everyone," she announced loudly. "The ballroom is al

The morning after the gala, Marilyn woke up feeling unusually restless. She lay in bed staring at the ceiling of her apartment for several minutes before finally forcing herself to get up. No matter how hard she tried, her mind kept replaying the events of the previous night. The event in the private room. How Raymond locked the door. Even following her in there was still shocking to her and she still couldn't place it. Even the jealousy he hadn't even bothered to hide. Most embarrassing of all was the fact that she really enjoyed it. Marilyn groaned softly and buried her face in her pillow. Something was seriously wrong with her. For weeks she told herself that Raymond Stewart was dangerous. He was controlling, frustrating, arrogant, and entirely too used to getting whatever he wanted. Yet the moment he stopped paying attention to her, she became miserable. The moment another woman sat on his desk and laughed with him, she became jealous. And now she couldn't stop thinking abou

The next morning, Marilyn was already awake long before her alarm rang. In truth, she had barely slept at all. Every time she closed her eyes, her mind drifted back to the short text Raymond had sent the night before. Tomorrow. 7:00 AM. Be ready. You're coming with me. That was all he had written. No explanation, no details, no hint of where they were going. Typical Raymond Stewart. Marilyn glanced at the clock again. It was only six-thirty. She sighed and walked into the kitchen of her small apartment. While waiting for the coffee machine to finish brewing, she stood by the window, staring out at the quiet streets below. The city was still waking up. Most people were preparing for another ordinary workday. Meanwhile, she was preparing for whatever mysterious plan Raymond had arranged. A strange flutter settled in her stomach — a mix of excitement, nervousness, and anticipation. She wasn’t entirely sure which feeling was stronger. By six-fifty-five, she was dressed a

The following day passed far more peacefully than Marilyn expected. For once, Raymond didn’t call her into his office every hour, nor did he find excuses to keep her close. He didn’t even send her on impossible errands, or stop by her desk. The strange conversation they had shared after leaving the Abraham estate seemed to have settled into an unspoken truce between them. At least on the surface. Marilyn spent most of the morning working on the implementation reports for her guest experience proposals. Several department heads had already begun contacting her for additional details, which surprised her more than she wanted to admit. Only a few weeks ago, she had been carrying coffee trays and trying not to get fired. Now senior executives were requesting her input on company-wide projects. The change felt surreal. Around noon, she stretched her arms above her head and leaned back in her chair. Her neck ached from staring at spreadsheets all morning. Just as she reached for her bottl

Marilyn spent nearly an hour standing in front of her wardrobe, pulling out one dress after another only to reject each one. It was either too formal, too casual, too obvious or too plain. With a frustrated sigh, she tossed another outfit onto her bed and stared at the growing pile of rejected clothes. What exactly was she dressing for? Dinner. That was all. At least, that was what she kept telling herself. Unfortunately, her heart refused to cooperate. Every time she thought about what had happened inside Raymond’s office earlier that afternoon, her pulse immediately sped up. She couldn't stop thinking about the kiss. Or the way he looked at her. Even the jealousy in his voice, and the honesty. Most of all, the fact that he hadn’t denied it. Raymond Stewart could have said anything. He could have hidden behind arrogance. He could have pretended, instead, he had admitted it. “I hate seeing you with someone else, Marilyn.” The memory alone was enough to make her stomach flutter