Why Does The Protagonist In 'The Hotel Room' Stay?

Every April Fools' Day, my boyfriend joined his childhood friend in the same cruel prank, pretending to propose to me. Last year, I slipped the ring onto my finger, my heart full of hope. Suddenly, the mechanism snapped tight. Pain shot through my hand, and I cried out. He apologized afterward and promised that, this year, the proposal would be real. As such, I arrived carefully dressed, believing him. Instead, I was met with a face full of cake. He reached out gently, wiping the cream from my face as if it were nothing more than a harmless joke. However, this time, I took a step back. After six disappointments, I chose to walk away. So why was it that, in the end, he was the one consumed by regret?

Building an empire comes first. Or it did until I met her. My family’s billion-dollar hotel chain has been my life for as long as I can remember. Travel. Women. Wealth. That’s all I know, until fate grabs me by the throat and decides to not let up. She’s a beach body, a beautiful, curvy California girl who hasn't found the right person to give into yet. I would have felt the same, but something about her has me pacing the floor at night. And my father sent me out to her hotel specifically. The sly dog knowing that she’s exactly the woman I need in my future. But it’s not that easy. It never is. Not until our love produces a little one. Then everything changes. Especially me. Now I want more than just one night. I want forever.

Olivia Reyes has her life exactly how she likes it. Quiet mornings, no disruptions, no complications. She is a therapist — she knows better than anyone what happens when you let the wrong feelings in. Then Damien Cole moves in across the hall and ruins everything. Loud music. Late nights. An easy smile that tells her he has never once been told no. She hates him immediately. Completely. Convincingly — until one ordinary morning she opens her curtain and sees him, really sees him, and realises that hate was always covering something far more dangerous. She tells herself it means nothing. She manages it. She is very good at managing things. Until her apartment floods at three in the morning and the only door open to her is his. Three days, she tells herself. Just until maintenance sorts it out. But three days with Damien strips away every version of him she invented in her head. He is not who she decided he was. He is steady and perceptive and quietly, dangerously kind — and he has been paying attention to her long before she ever noticed him doing it. What happens between them does not feel like a mistake. It feels like something that was always coming. Then his ex walks back through the door and Olivia does the one thing she swore she never would. She runs. What follows is the question at the centre of everything — how far will Damien go for a woman who does not believe she is worth chasing? And can Olivia finally stop analysing long enough to fight for something real? She was only meant to stay three days. She stayed for him.

“Sorry, but due to the holiday, we’re overbooked. Your reservation has been canceled. Here’s a fifty-dollar voucher as compensation.” The hotel front desk clerk handed me a voucher with a perfunctory tone. I looked at her coldly. Then, I looked at the man next to her, who had just arrived. He had not even shown his ID, yet the clerk respectfully handed him a presidential suite key card. “Why can he check in without even showing an ID? Meanwhile, my room, which I booked a full week in advance, was canceled without explanation. And all I get is a lousy fifty-dollar voucher?” The front desk clerk let out a scornful laugh as she walked up to me. “Because he’s Mr. Ludwig, the heir of Grandview Group! His family owns the entire hotel. Do you think it’s just a matter of one room? If he wanted the whole hotel emptied out tonight, we’d do it. Who do you think you are? “If you keep standing here causing trouble and getting in his way, I’ll have security drag you outside and beat some sense into you. Now, get out!” Two security guards stepped forward. They grabbed me by the hair and roughly pulled me toward the door. My scalp hurt badly from the pulling, and my clothes were wrinkled. The front desk clerk’s shouts trailed behind me. “Next time, stay in a motel. People like you can’t afford to travel on a holiday.” I looked at the hotel’s grand entrance. Instead of shouting, I let out a quiet, exasperated laugh. The heir to Grandview Group, huh? They probably did not know that their lofty heir was right in front of them, and that he was being humiliated by their staff. Since they refused to serve guests decently, only catered to people with status, and did not think twice about hurting and humiliating their other customers, this hotel might as well shut down.

The sequel to The Snow Storm tells the story of Owen, the son and brother of the infamous killers at the now well known motel, dubbed the Murder Motel. Owen is just trying to live a normal life, thinking that he has finally managed to put the past behind him, when a new string of disappearances seem to suggest that he is carrying on in his late father's footsteps. But when a copy cat killer goes so far as to frame him for the murders, he needs all the help that he can get to clear his name. That is where journalist Kate Lyston comes in. She believes that he is innocent and works along side of him to prove it. Will they fall in love at the Murder Motel, or will she be it's latest victim?

My father-in-law, Noah Quinlan, and I go on a vacation together. After checking into the hotel, we decide to swim around in the hotel's swimming pool. But a well-dressed man shows his disdain toward us outright while pinching his nose. "This is a high-class hotel! Ugh, why are there all sorts of people here? Don't tell me you two secretly snuck in just to use the pool! "I'm really scared of catching any infectious diseases just by sharing the same pool as you!" That man's words instantly spoil the mood for Noah and me. I reply coldly, "The hotel's swimming pool is meant for public use. Anyone who stays in the hotel has the right to use it. If you can't accept that fact, you might as well have one built at your home." The man is so angry that his brows are all scrunched up. He retorts furiously, "How dare you talk to me like that! Don't you know that my wife is the owner of this hotel? The fanciest suite here belongs to me all year round! "I order you to get lost right now! What if your poorness dirties the pool water? How disgusting!" Noah and I exchange looks immediately, soon noticing the coldness in each other's eyes. My wife, Zara Quinlan, is the one owning this hotel. Since when has she become another man's wife?