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Despised by the Manager for a Frayed Coat, Then the Billionaire Son Personally Arrives to Face-Slap Her

Chapter 2

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Across the city, in a sleek, glass-walled boardroom perched fifty stories above the ground, Marcus Brooks held up a hand, silencing the half-dozen executives in the middle of a presentation. He looked up from the financial projections file in front of him.“Dad, what happened? Are you okay?”“The manager wouldn’t check my reservation,” Walter explained calmly. “She had security take me outside. Said I didn't look like I belonged there.”Marcus’s jaw tightened. He closed the file with a soft, decisive snap. “She never even asked your name?”“No. She told me my outfit cost less than a night's stay.”Marcus stood up abruptly. The chair squeaked against the hardwood floor. The executives in the room exchanged nervous glances; they rarely saw the Chairman look this dangerous.“Stay exactly there, Dad. Don't move. I’m on my way.”Less than twenty minutes later, a sleek, black SUV with tinted windows screeched to a halt in the hotel's circular driveway, directly beneath the grand awning. The valet barely had time to approach before the door flew open. Marcus stepped out. Tall, broad-shouldered, and sharply dressed in a bespoke navy suit that screamed quiet, immense wealth, he commanded immediate attention. He ignored the valet and crossed directly toward his father, who was standing quietly near a stone planter.“Dad, are you alright?” Marcus asked, his voice tight with controlled anger. He checked his father over. “Who did this to you?”Walter placed a calming hand on his son’s tense arm. “I’m fine, son. It's just pride. I only asked them to verify my room, but she wouldn't look at the screen.”The commotion outside had drawn Rosa's attention. She stepped through the sliding glass doors, her annoyance visible as she looked at Marcus, then at the expensive SUV, and finally back at Walter. She sighed dramatically.“Wonderful. Now his son’s here too,” she muttered, approaching them with a condescending smirk.Marcus slowly turned to face her. His eyes were like chips of dark ice. “Were you the one who had my father escorted out?”Rosa folded her arms, entirely unimpressed. She was used to dealing with entitled people; she thought she knew exactly how to handle them. “I keep people like him from disturbing actual guests. This is a five-star establishment, not a public waiting room.”Marcus stared at her, his expression dangerously blank. “He told you he had a reservation.”“Look at him,” Rosa scoffed, gesturing lazily toward Walter. “Does that look like someone staying in one of our suites? Please. I know a scam when I see one.”Marcus took a slow step forward, placing himself slightly in front of his father. The air around him seemed to drop ten degrees. “You might want to apologize while you still can. And then you might want to look up his name.”Rosa glanced at the SUV again and laughed—a harsh, grating sound. “A fancy rented SUV doesn’t suddenly make you important. And threats don't work on me.”Marcus adjusted his cuff link, a terrifying calmness settling over him. He was no longer a son defending his father; he was an apex predator observing a particularly foolish prey. “Please, keep going.”Rosa took the bait. “Take your father somewhere he won’t embarrass the hotel. There's a motel three blocks down. I suggest you try there.”Marcus’s expression barely changed, but his voice dropped an octave. “You really don’t know who you’re speaking to, do you?”
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Despised by the Manager for a Frayed Coat, Then the Billionaire Son Personally Arrives to Face-Slap Her

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