Sweet Subterfuge

Chapter 3

During the morning meeting, the general manager announced the news of the “important guest” checking in and expected all department managers to supervise those under their command to ensure that they were as careful and meticulous as possible.

As the housekeeping manager who had frequent direct contact with the “important guest,” Larissa was held back for extra instructions and exhortations. “Mr. Rogers has extreme germaphobia, so the rooms must be kept clean at all times. Work together with the reception; the moment they see Mr. Rogers heading out, tell the cleaning staff to clean his rooms immediately. Additionally, the cleaning staff are not allowed to touch Mr. Rogers’ personal effects. Not even once!”

Larissa thought it was a little ridiculous. “But what if Mr. Rogers left his clothes or whatever on the bed or something? Do we not make the bed for him then, just to avoid touching his clothes during cleaning?”

“Firstly, with his personality, Mr. Rogers would never just toss his clothes onto the bed. Secondly, even if he did, it’s better to wait for his return before you make the bed. Touching his things is an absolute no-no. Last year, something like this occurred in the main branch of the Regal Dynasty in Bartham. A cleaning staff moved Mr. Rogers’ laptop in order to wipe the table. When he found out, the housekeeping department, from managers to cleaning staff, all resigned.”

The general manager was stern. “I’m reminding you for your own good. Don’t take it for granted.”

“I will keep it in mind, Mr. Compton!”

When Larissa left, she immediately called for a department-wide meeting and conveyed the general manager’s explicit instructions to them. To ensure no mistakes were made, she specifically arranged for the two oldest and most experienced cleaning staff in the department to be in charge of cleaning the presidential suite.

…

Kevan went out rather early and did not return even after Larissa’s shift had ended at 8 pm.

She was just feeling thankful for getting through the first day when she noticed several missed calls from the same unknown number after her shower. Larissa hurriedly called back. The call was about to be dropped automatically when someone finally answered it.

“Come to Room 8888.” The male voice on the other end was terribly hoarse, as if he were trying to suppress something.

Larissa froze for a bit before realizing who was on the other end and quickly said, “Of course, Mr. Rogers. I’ll be right there.”

She hurriedly changed out of her pajamas and headed upstairs with her long hair wet. 8888 was the room number of the Regal Dynasty’s presidential suite, which was also where Kevan Rogers was staying. Larissa stood outside the door and rang the doorbell anxiously.

A moment later, Kevan opened the door.

He wore only a white shirt, one side of the hem loosely tucked into his silvery gray pants. The other side of the hem was left hanging.

The shirt was not completely buttoned up, as three buttons from the collar were loose. It revealed his slender neck, well-defined clavicles, and slightly defined chest.

It seemed that he had just showered too, considering the fresh smell of shower gel wafting off of him. His hair was not entirely dry yet and was disheveled. It made him look sinfully sexy.

Larissa was outright staring.

Kevan yanked her into the room before she could react. The door slammed shut with a loud thud, and Larissa’s back collided against the solid, cold door. Her face scrunched up at the pain. “Ah…” Right as she gasped out in pain, he bit her lower lip.

Larissa’s eyes widened in shock.

Kevan’s face was so close to hers. His eyes were closed, his eyelashes quivering slightly, and his face had an unnatural flush. His kiss was fierce and frantic, as if he were someone who had just managed to quench his thirst.

Larissa instinctively tried to push him away, but the disparity in strength had her essentially pinned to the door. She was so panicked that she hit and kicked him. Yet, at the same time, she restrained herself out of apprehension about his status.

Her resistance meant nothing to Kevan. Not only did it fail to stop him, but it encouraged him further. Leaning close to her ear, Kevan murmured, “Have you forgotten how your husband betrayed you? Don’t you want to get back at him?”

Larissa froze as if she had been struck by lightning. Kevan pulled the hem of her shirt out of her short skirt. Her rationality told her, “No! You can’t!” But then the intimate scene between Travis and Amber appeared before her mind’s eye. Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

Since the marriage was all but dead, why could she not indulge herself?

Larissa closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around Kevan’s neck. Receiving her response, Kevan’s dark eyes snapped open, revealing a strange gleam within them. It seemed to get brighter and brighter.

…

Larissa passed out.

What woke her was the incessant ringing of a phone. The room was still dark due to the curtains covering the windows. She cracked open an eyelid and reached out for the phone that looked just like hers on the bedside table. Then, she answered it without bothering to check the number.

“Hello?”

Her nasal twang shocked the caller.

“Holy fuck! A woman?!”

“Huh?” Larissa’s brain was muddled. She only knew that she did not understand what the guy meant, but she did not have the energy to think of anything else.

The bathroom door opened, and faint footsteps sounded.

Right after that, the soft mattress dipped, and Larissa’s hand was empty. The phone had been taken from her.

“What do you want?” Kevan’s cold, displeased voice sounded above her head.

Larissa was shocked into wakefulness as yesterday’s events flooded her mind. She clutched at the sheets out of mortification and anxiety, wishing fervently that she could disappear from here.

The room was quiet. She heard the guy from the phone ask teasingly, “What, you’re no longer saving yourself for your dream girl? Who’s that woman? Karin Gallagher or Laura Newman?”

Karin and Laura were A-list actresses who were currently popular.

“Neither.” With that, Kevan hung up. He tossed the phone, and it landed on the bed.

“Are you awake?” he asked Larissa, who had no choice but to open her eyes at this point.

Kevan was nude from the waist up, with a towel covering everything from the waist down. He sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes fixed on her.

“Last night was an accident. Don’t think too much into it,” he said.