“Given your… history with Miss Celia and her family…” Timothy added cautiously, “there may be more to this than we see. I just want to confirm if you still want to proceed as planned.”
Magnus’s eyes finally shifted.
In the mirror, they were dark. Cold. Bottomless.
“Let it be,” he said flatly. “It’s business. We’ll treat it as business. Get it over with.”
Timothy nodded at once. “Yes, sir.”
The car merged into the Manhattan traffic. Horns blared faintly in the distance.
Soon, it rolled to a smooth stop at the hotel entrance.
The vehicle came to a smooth stop in front of the Hotel du Lac. The grand façade reflected the fading gold of the afternoon sun. A valet rushed forward, bowing slightly as he opened the door.
Magnus strode toward the lobby, coat moving behind him, shoes striking the marble with sharp, confident echoes.
He moved through the revolving doors and into the lobby. Crystal chandeliers glittered overhead. The scent of expensive perfume and polished marble lingered in the air.
Timothy caught up quickly, matching his pace.
They entered the private elevator. The doors slid shut with a soft metallic sound, sealing them inside. The confined space amplified the quiet tension.
Timothy pressed the button for the top floor. The elevator rose smoothly.
Magnus stood with his hands in his coat pockets, posture straight, shoulders squared. His reflection stared back at him from the mirrored walls.
A soft chime echoed as the elevator stopped.
The doors slid open.
The hallway greeted them with plush carpet and expensive silence.
“I’ll wait here, sir,” Timothy said, stopping beside the elevator.
Magnus gave a short nod and walked down the hallway.
The corridor was long and silent, carpet swallowing the sound of his footsteps. The lighting was dimmer here—warmer, more private. At the very end of the hall, he stopped.
He glanced at his phone to confirm the room number.
Then he swiped the key card.
The lock clicked.
He pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The suite was large. Spacious. Elegant.
And completely silent.
Soft lighting. Curtains half drawn. A faint trace of floral air freshener lingered in the air, sweet enough to be suffocating.
But there was no one there.
Magnus’s brows pulled together slightly.
He stepped inside anyway, the door shutting softly behind him. The faint hum of the air conditioning filled the space.
