Chapter 221: Special Incense
After Vincent left the massage parlor, Zachary got up and quietly followed. As he suspected, Vincent stepped out of the parlor and immediately turned into the hotel next door. Zachary trailed behind, slipping through the doors just as they closed.
Watching Vincent check in, he stayed close but kept his distance. When Vincent was about to step into the elevator, Zachary hurried forward. “Vincent! Ah, missed you by a second,” he called out, pretending he’d been trying to catch up. Deliberately slowing his steps, he let the elevator doors close on purpose.
The moment the elevator whisked Vincent away, Zachary darted to the front desk. “The guy who just came in—that’s my friend, Vincent Patterson. Can you tell me his room number?” The receptionists exchanged hesitant glances, unsure what to do.
“What?” Zachary pressed, feigning exasperation. “You don’t believe me? You saw me call out to him just now! What do you want, a phone call to prove it? Honestly, a hotel this size, and you can’t even handle something so simple. I’m filing a complaint.” The staff hesitated but ultimately caved, perhaps swayed by the interaction they’d witnessed.
“Sir,” one of them said reluctantly, “your friend is in room 1005. We apologize, but we do take guest privacy very seriously. We hope you understand and won’t file a complaint.”
“Well,” Zachary said, pretending to relent, “since you’ve seen reason, I’ll let it slide.” With a curt nod, he walked toward the elevators, his expression a mix of irritation and smug satisfaction. Inside the elevator, he rode up only two floors before stepping out and taking the stairs. He climbed to the tenth floor and stationed himself by the stairwell, waiting for Claire.
Meanwhile, in room 1005, Vincent sent a WhatsApp message to Claire: [I’m at Bright Night Hotel, room 1005.]
Claire froze for a moment when she saw the message, instantly grasping Vincent’s intentions. She hesitated briefly, her heart pounding, but the urgency of the Flores Group position pressed hard on her mind. Competition was fierce—six contenders vying for only two spots. Every second mattered, and she couldn’t afford to fall behind.
Determined, Claire grabbed her bag, left the office, and hailed a cab straight to Bright Night Hotel. Zachary waited at the stairwell, his legs nearly numb from crouching so long, his eyes fixed on the hallway. Finally, Claire appeared. She was dressed in a fitted yet professional outfit that struck a perfect balance between businesslike and alluring, making Zachary’s heart race.
Watching her retreating figure, he smirked and pulled out his phone to make a call. “I’m at the Bright Night Hotel,” he said to one of his men. “Get over here immediately. I need one of you to pose as a waiter and deliver a bottle of wine to room 1005.”
“And listen carefully,” he added, his tone turning sharp. “Don’t tamper with the wine. Just make sure to light my usual incense discreetly—it’s already prepped. Be subtle. No one can know.” Satisfied with his instructions, Zachary ended the call, leaning back with a sly grin.
Inside room 1005, Claire had barely stepped through the door when Vincent’s eyes locked on her. He didn’t bother hiding his gaze as it roamed over her, his interest plain as day. Claire, fully aware of his intentions, pretended not to notice. Keeping her composure, she pulled out the folder she’d prepared.
“Mr. Patterson,” she began, her tone professional, “this is a detailed proposal about the Flores Group and the position you’re considering. It includes job responsibilities, salary structure—everything you’d want to know.” She stepped forward and handed the file to Vincent.
Vincent raised an eyebrow, took the folder, and casually placed it on a nearby table. “Ms. Prescott,” he said, leaning back, his smirk deepening, “I think we both know what I really want. You figured out my private code and contacted me directly—so you must know the kind of person I am.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping. “I don’t like beating around the bush. If you’re willing, I can be at Flores Group tomorrow.”
Vincent’s arrogance was palpable. Buoyed by whatever Zachary had told him, he assumed Claire was desperate enough to be easily manipulated. Claire, however, had no idea what backroom scheming Vincent might be relying on. She had simply come prepared. Reaching into her pocket, she subtly adjusted the recording device she’d been hiding, ready to catch whatever “performance” Vincent had in mind.
“Willing?” she echoed, feigning confusion. “I’m not sure I understand, Mr. Patterson. Could you clarify?” Vincent chuckled darkly, clearly unconvinced. “Don’t play dumb. You knew exactly what you were doing when you contacted me this way. Don’t tell me you’re—”
Before he could finish, a knock interrupted him. “Good evening, sir,” a voice called from the other side of the door. “I’m with the hotel staff. Tonight, we’re hosting a special raffle, and your room has won a complimentary bottle of Bordeaux red wine, paired with a selection of gourmet snacks.”
The voice belonged to Zachary’s man. Outside the door, a service cart waited, adorned with mood-setting candles and a faint trace of the incense Zachary had instructed them to use, its subtle fragrance already mingling with the air.