Chapter 2

‘I do enjoy giving youngsters opportunities. Since you call yourself a hotel owner now, you ought to be shown how things are properly done.’

‘Relax and enjoy yourself. You’re far busier than most with all your ventures. Or should I say, playing around with money?’

He had been invited by none other than Tinelli’s owner, Banks.

It grated on him.

‘That sly bastard didn’t invite me with good intentions.’

This was a show. A way to say: You and I are not the same. By having Killian stay here, Banks was essentially telling him to compare it to his own tacky casino hotel.

An elegant insult in their refined little world.

And yet—

“Are you truly all right with this?”

“Why not? I have nothing to lose.”

That kind of petty one-upmanship? To a man raised in the slums, it was almost laughably tame. A tickle, not a threat.

Killian intended to make the most of Banks’s little “opportunity.”

“What about the women?”

“They should be arriving on the hour.”

Killian had invited seven women to the hotel that night. Like moths to a flame, they all rushed in fearlessly, begging for a chance to sleep with him, even while knowing what kind of man he was.

“They’ll certainly have no trouble causing a scandal for Mr. Banks.”

Usually, he wouldn’t give those kinds of women the time of day. But if it meant humiliating Banks, offering up his body was a small price to pay.

“Security?”

“We’ve already taken care of the guards and front desk.”

Tinelli Hotel claimed to be impenetrable, but breaking through its security was child’s play for Killian.

Tonight, he planned a full-blown orgy with seven women. All to shock the hotel owner who dared to look down on him.

He wondered what kind of face Banks would make when his so-called “elegant social club” hosted a filthy, raunchy party. Killian’s lips curled in satisfaction.

“They say the old bastard can’t even get his cock up anymore.”

Derrick coughed, trying to keep others from hearing the crude remark. However, despite his efforts, it seemed some already had, Their faces twisted in disgust, but Killian didn’t care.

“Imagine his face when he walks in to find the beds soaked in cum. Now that will be a sight.”

More coughing. Louder this time.

“Mr. Killian, please. I’m going to rupture something with all this coughing.”

“You’re no fun.”

“It’s all for your reputation, sir.”

Killian raised an eyebrow, clearly annoyed.

That damn reputation…

As far as he was concerned, making money was enough. But seeing how his straight-laced secretary was suffering, he decided to dial it down. He lifted his whiskey glass.

“So then, what did you find so amusing?”

At Derrick’s question, Killian gestured behind him with the hand holding the glass.

“I wasn’t talking about the hotel. Look over there.”

“Hm?”

“Turn around.”

Derrick did, and he saw a couple seated just behind him. Unlike the other couples around, their table radiated a completely different vibe.

Everyone else wore smiles like trophies, but this couple acted as if they were attending a funeral.

Killian’s eyes found the woman again.

Her hair was red as wine, yet her face was brittle and dried-out, like a dead leaf. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, and they looked hollow.

She looked pitiful, like someone standing at the edge of a cliff.

“Is she your type?”

“Hard to say. Faces like that… transcend type.”

Derrick tilted his head, not understanding. Just then, the woman spoke.

“Ian.”

The moment she opened her mouth, the entire grand hotel once again transformed into a stage just for her. Every hotel guest had become a part of an audience, holding their breaths.

And then, came a line straight out of a drama. One that delighted every voyeur’s heart.

“Let’s get a divorce.”

Now that was a line. Killian burst into laughter and gladly became her audience.

“See? Told you it’d be entertaining.”

Thanks to that little scene, he never did get around to drinking his whiskey