The hotel's upper corridor felt like an entirely different world—far removed from the smoky chaos downstairs. The floor was polished spotless. Fresh flowers rested in porcelain pots on either side, and carefully framed calligraphy hung neatly along the walls.
It wasn't luxury, but it was deliberate.
A quiet place for "important people."
Robert's subordinate walked briskly ahead, stopping at the very last room. He unlocked the door, then respectfully handed the key to Ryan.
"Sir, please keep it safe. If you need anything, just ring the bell by the bed. Miss Olivia will arrive shortly. I'll take my leave."
After the man walked away, the door closed, sealing them into the quiet room.
The furnishings were simple: a large bed, a low wardrobe, a side table, and the rare luxury of a 21-inch television.
Ryan checked the room with a soldier's instinct—corners, windows, places where someone could hide. Only when he was reassured did he speak.
