?Chapter 328:
The young man at the front desk took his ID and started to register him but was interrupted by a call.
Maintaining his practiced customer-service smile, he listened for a moment, then hung up and handed Marc’s ID back.
“I’m terribly sorry, sir,” he murmured, his tone polite but devoid of sincerity. “It seems I made a mistake—all our rooms are already booked for tonight. I apologize for the inconvenience.”
Marc stared at the young man at the front desk, utterly stunned, his heart sinking like a rock.
“You just told us there were rooms,” Marc said tightly. “We were ready to check in. How could they suddenly be gone?”
The receptionist looked uneasy. “The rooms were actually reserved in advance, sir. The guests haven’t arrived yet—I must’ve misread the list earlier. I sincerely apologize for the confusion.”
“But they haven’t even shown up! Can’t you give us one? I’ll pay twice the rate,” Marc pressed, growing impatient.
“I’m really sorry, sir,” the receptionist said with a strained smile. “They’ve prepaid, so we’re obligated to hold the rooms all night.”
Realizing he was getting nowhere, Marc gave up. He and Doreen sank onto the lobby couch, exchanging glum nces.
Doreen rubbed her arms for warmth, her voiceced with a softint. “Mr. Walsh, why did we leave the other hotel? Was it because we bumped into Ste? Did she say something to upset you?”
Just the mention of Ste made Marc’s jaw tighten. “It has nothing to do with her,” he snapped, clearly annoyed.
Doreen fell silent, but resentment quietly stirred inside her.
Why was Ste able to afford thevish presidential suite while she and Marc were stuck scrounging for rooms?
They weren’t that far apart in age, so why did Ste have so much more? If she had even half of Ste’s wealth, she wouldn’t be spending her night like this—in a lobby, with nowhere to go.
New updates in g??lησv???s
With options dwindling, Marc reluctantly settled for a dingy roadside motel.
Lying on the creaky bed, Doreen felt too repulsed by the shabby room to sleep. After tossing and turning, she sat up and typed out a message to Marc. “Mr. Walsh, it was an honor learning from you today. Even through the rough patches, I got to see a different side of you. If only someone could protect you from all this… I hope I can be that person someday. Goodnight and sweet dreams.”
Marcy awake too, staring at the ceiling. When his phone buzzed, he nced at the screen and saw her text.
Doreen, he thought, was always the patient one. Never demanding, never questioning.
He hadn’t even needed to bring her along this time—she had asked toe, eager to learn.
Without his help, she had few chances.
And with her, he always felt safe, always seen, and always admired.
.
.
.