Of course, Clara Grant had no idea what Seth Quinn was thinking. At his question, she immediately forced a wider smile and replied, "Oh, Mr. Quinn, I'm here to deliver something for you."
With that, she pointed to the large suitcase by the door.
Seth Quinn remained perfectly still. His gaze swept over the suitcase, then flicked back to her. "A delivery?"
"…"
Clara Grant wasn't a delivery driver, of course. She was just a junior in college who did odd jobs to cover her living expenses.
Luckily, at the Novaria Academy of Arts where she was a student, almost everyone was incredibly wealthy and too lazy to handle their own chores, so she got plenty of "gigs."
As a result, her income was pretty good. At the very least, she had no trouble covering her daily expenses.
It was just that her "service area" was usually limited to campus and the immediate vicinity; this was the first time she'd made a delivery so far out.
At first, she hadn't wanted to take the job. After all, the name "The Reyton Hotel" was like a thorn in her heart.
But the person who'd hired her was paying extremely well. The offer was too tempting, so after hesitating for less than a minute, she'd spinelessly accepted.
But Clara obviously couldn't explain all that to a strange man, so in the end, she just gave an ambiguous reply. "Sort of…"
Seth Quinn frowned slightly. 'Sort of? What kind of answer is that?'
'Besides, he hadn't bought anything recently, and he wasn't expecting any gifts.'
While Seth Quinn was still lost in thought, Clara Grant stepped forward, lifted the suitcase, and started walking into the room. "Mr. Quinn, let me bring this inside for you."
His gaze fixed on her, suddenly darkening. 'Ha. So eager to please. Can't wait to get into my room. This delivery is probably a sham. She must have an ulterior motive.'
A cold smirk played on his lips. He casually shut the door and followed her in.
'The client paid so well,' Clara thought, 'so my service should be extra warm and attentive. If I treat my 'gods'—the customers—well, they'll patronize my business again. That's how you get repeat clients, isn't it?'
'And of course, the more generous clients like this, the better!'
That was why she had eagerly helped bring the suitcase in. She had planned on dropping it off and leaving immediately, but just as she set it down, she heard the door click shut behind her.
Clara was about to turn when a shadow fell over her, and the next thing she knew, the man's tall figure was standing right in front of her.
Perhaps it was his cold, powerful presence, but Clara couldn't help but flinch. She looked up to see an inscrutable, mocking smile on his face, and her heart suddenly lurched.
'A hotel. A man and a woman, alone. A locked door…'
The suggestive words flashed through Clara's mind. Even though the man before her hadn't done anything inappropriate, her intuition screamed that right now, he was very dangerous.
Clara nearly jumped a step back. She struggled to remain calm, but her words came out in a stutter. "Q-Q-Quinn…"
"Seth Quinn," the man supplied, his thin lips barely moving. His voice was flat, betraying no emotion.
After a two-second pause, Clara finally processed it. 'Why is he telling me his name? I don't want to know!'
"Mr. Quinn, your delivery is here, so I'll just…"
Before she could finish, the man's voice cut in, laced with contempt. "Show me."