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

Chapter 5

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Marcus looked directly into her eyes. The raw power radiating from him was physical. “I already did.”A strange, desperate expression crossed Rosa’s face. It wasn't surrender. It was the stubborn confidence of someone who believed they had a trump card left to play. She reached into her pocket with shaking hands and pulled out her phone.“You’re going to wish you hadn’t done that,” she spat out.Richard frowned, stepping forward. “Rosa, who are you calling? Stop making this worse.”She ignored him, selecting a contact with a furious jab of her thumb. She raised the phone to her ear.“Dad…” she said, her voice trembling slightly, but laced with vindictive expectation. “They just fired me. Down in the lobby. Can you come down? Right now.”For the first time since he arrived, Marcus’s expression shifted. A flicker of dark amusement danced in his eyes. Richard looked deeply uneasy, recognizing the name she must be calling. Walter just watched Rosa carefully, sad that she was doubling down on her mistake.She ended the call with a small, trembling, but satisfied smile. She glared at Marcus. “You should’ve waited before making that decision. You don't know who you're messing with.”Ten minutes later, the polished brass doors of the private VIP elevator slid open with a soft, melodic chime. An older white man stepped into the lobby and walked briskly toward the glass doors. Around sixty-five, silver-haired, and impeccably dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, he carried himself with the quiet, unquestionable confidence of someone who possessed true power.Richard recognized him immediately. He groaned softly. “Mr. Whitmore.”Marcus recognized him too.Charles Whitmore had spent nearly thirty years in the hotel industry. He was a legend. He had once served as the regional operations director before retiring from active duty, but he still sat on the highly influential advisory committee for several properties, including this one. His word could make or break careers.Rosa’s posture shifted the moment his expensive leather shoes touched the pavement outside. The fear that had been clawing at her throat was entirely eclipsed by a triumphant glow. She hurried toward him, playing the part of the wronged professional to perfection.“Dad,” Rosa called out, her voice slicing through the heavy tension. “Thank goodness you’re here. Richard has completely lost his mind, and these two men are causing an absolute scene.”Richard Lawson stood frozen, looking like a man watching a train wreck unfold in slow motion. He opened his mouth to warn the older man, but the words died on his tongue.Charles Whitmore adjusted his gold cuffs, his eyes scanning the area with the weary annoyance of a general called to settle a dispute among foot soldiers. “Rosa, I was in the middle of a rather important conference call. This had better be—”His voice abruptly ceased.Charles’s gaze had moved past his daughter, past the pale and trembling hotel director, and landed directly on the tall, imposing figure of Marcus Brooks. Beside Marcus stood Walter, watching the scene unfold with quiet dignity.For a moment, time seemed to suspend itself entirely. The ambient noise of the city faded into a suffocating vacuum.Rosa, oblivious to the catastrophic shift in her father’s demeanor, continued her tirade. “The older one came in off the street, looking like a vagrant. I did exactly what you taught me, Dad. I protected the hotel's image. I had security escort him out. And now, this younger one is claiming he has the authority to fire me. Tell them, Dad. Tell Richard who really holds the power here.”
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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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