Chapter 3 - The Sanctuary of Suite 904The private elevator hummed as it ascended smoothly to the ninth floor.
When the doors slid open with a soft chime, the quiet hallway smelled of fresh lilies, polished mahogany, and clean linen. Lupita stepped ahead, using the master keycard to open the heavy double doors of Suite 904.
The suite was breathtaking—a sprawling 2,000-square-foot executive sanctuary featuring floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the glittering Chicago skyline, a grand piano, a marble fireplace, and a king-sized bed draped in Egyptian cotton sheets.
Ethan carried Lily into the master bedroom, carefully laying her down on the soft mattress. He gently unlaced her small pink sneakers, pulled the fluffy duvet over her shoulders, and placed her stuffed rabbit beside her cheek.
Lily stirred briefly, letting out a soft sigh before nestling deeper into the pillow.
"Daddy's here, sweetie," Ethan whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. "You're safe."
He walked back out into the living area, where Lupita had quietly set his backpack on the luggage bench and placed the bouquet of red roses into a tall glass vase filled with fresh water.
"I took the liberty of putting the roses in water, Mr. Vance," Lupita said softly. "They're beautiful."
Ethan looked at the roses. The crushed petals were already uncurling in the warmth of the room.
"Thank you, Lupita," Ethan said, leaning against the mahogany dining table, looking exhausted for the first time all night. "My late wife loved red roses. Tomorrow is the anniversary of her passing. Every year, Lily and I buy them so we can honor her together."
Lupita’s eyes filled with compassionate understanding. "I am so sorry for your loss, sir. My mother passed away five years ago. Traditions like that... they keep their light alive in our hearts."
Ethan looked closely at Lupita. He noticed the worn soles of her orthopedic work shoes, the neatness of her uniform, and the calm, unwavering dignity she carried.
"How long have you worked at the Grand Regent, Lupita?"
"Eight years, Mr. Vance. Ever since the hotel opened."
"And how have those eight years been?"
Lupita hesitated for a brief second, choosing her words carefully. "I love this hotel, sir. I take pride in making every room feel like a home for people who are tired and far from their families. But... over the last two years, things have changed."
Ethan’s posture sharpened. "Changed how?"
"Mr. Sterling, the General Manager... he changed the staff incentives," Lupita revealed quietly. "The front desk staff receive bonuses based on high-tier corporate upsells and high room rates. They are encouraged to turn away guests with lower-tier bookings or 'unpromising' appearances to keep rooms open for late-night walk-in VIPs who pay double. They call it 'inventory optimization.'"
A cold rage kindled deep within Ethan’s chest. Inventory optimization.
He had built the Regent brand on the principle of universal hospitality—the belief that every guest, whether a CEO in a bespoke suit or a weary family on a budget, deserved to be treated like royalty.
"Julian Sterling authorized this policy?" Ethan asked.
"Not in writing, sir," Lupita said softly. "But it is how the hotel is run when the executive board isn't looking."
Ethan took a deep breath, stepping toward the window to look out at the city lights.
"Lupita," Ethan said, turning back to her. "Tomorrow morning at 8:00 a.m., there will be an emergency executive meeting in the Grand Ballroom. I want you there."
May you like
Lupita blinked in surprise. "Sir? I am just a housekeeper."
"No, Lupita," Ethan corrected her, his voice firm and sincere. "You are the only person in this building tonight who actually understood what hospitality means. I will see you at eight."
