Willingly Falling for the Trap (2)

At the hotel.

An interview was currently being held inside one of the VIP rooms. The room was filled with the scent of freshly brewed coffee.

Sitting across from each other were two men. One of them looked neat and disciplined, wearing a fitted suit. On the other hand, the other man appeared extremely nervous, and the sweat-soaked handkerchief was crumpled in his hand.

"I—is Mr. Volkovich almost done?" the man asked, darting his gaze towards the ensuite where water was running.

The neat-looking man from across him glanced at his watch and then looked up. "He should be done any second now. Please wait, Mr. Luther. The president has been up all night and has only found time to shower today."

Markus Luther, a journalist, quickly waved his hands awkwardly, saying, "No, no! It's alright, I can wait for a bit longer. Mr. Volkovich can take his time!"

Even though he said this, Markus has been sitting inside the room for almost two hours now. Who knows what Mr. Volkovich was doing exactly inside the ensuite?

To be honest, he wanted to leave and go down where the Ameratti family's banquet was currently being held. But he couldn't pass on this once-in-a-lifetime chance and offend this person.

As a journalist with a high rating in the industry, Markus' schedule was usually booked by many sports clubs and wealthy businessmen. He had created a name for himself as a rational and honest journalist, gaining the trust of many powerful people. Thus, a lot of people wanted him to interview them. But not everyone could easily get him to agree.

This time, however, it was not a requested interview. Rather, it was he who desperately needed this interview!

How many people have interviewed Mr. Volkovich since he arrived in the country? ZERO! Over a hundred journalists have already tried, but none have been successful. Even Markus used all of his connections and made an effort to make this happen.

And so, no matter how long Markus waits, he will never complain!

Click!

At that moment, the door to the ensuite opened, and a man wearing a black bathrobe came out.

Markus nervously turned his head in that direction and almost couldn't breathe. He was dazzled by the sight in front of him.

Kallix Volkovich.

He was the heir to the Volkovich family, one of the wealthiest families in the world. As the only son of his predecessor, he had been meticulously trained from a young age to take over the position of head of the family. He seemed to be an inscrutable man, as evidenced by how he refused the position last year. That event was quite explosive as the Volkovich patriarch was sent to the hospital.

Markus had already expected Kallix to be a fine man based on the pictures taken of him on several occasions, but facing him now… he felt these photos didn't do him justice at all!

Although he was only standing there and wearing a black bathrobe that was loosely tied at the waist, the relaxed and sophisticated vibe exuding from him made him a different individual. Usually, one would feel vulnerable in that state, but the feeling Markus was getting from Kallix was the same type a prey would feel hiding from a sleeping dragon.

Once again, Markus felt tiny needles all over his palms and feet.

He could already feel the disparity between them.

Of course, that did not matter because they lived in two completely different worlds.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Volkovich!" Markus stood up from his seat abruptly.

Despite Markus' loud and enthused greeting, the man remained silent. He barely glanced at him. Markus stopped speaking and waited anxiously for his response.

After a couple of seconds, just when Markus grew anxious, Kallix finally opened his lips.

"Let's skip the greetings and start the interview."

It was a curt and cold response.

***

"Fuck!"

The female reporter couldn't help but curse out. But not for a bad reason.

She just couldn't stop feeling amazed at what was happening in front of her eyes. Is this real? No, was she real?

How can someone so beautiful appear in front of her? Is she a celebrity? The reporter wondered and tried to recall the names of many female celebrities who were acclaimed to be the most beautiful women in the entertainment industry. But after scanning through her memory, she still couldn't identify the woman!

Just who is she?!

Smacking the back of the head of her cameraman, the female reporter hastily ordered, "Focus your camera on that woman!"

The cameraman was confused. "Wha—!!!"

He couldn't complete his word as his mouth fell to the ground. But his body moved in reflex as he pointed the lens of his camera at the approaching lady.

Zooming in, the woman appeared unaware of the camera. And even if she was, she didn't seem to care as she walked unhindered and elegantly down the hallway. She didn't even glance at the reporters, who were now waking up from their ignorance.

Unfortunately, they moved too late, as the beautiful lady had already crossed the distance between her and the luxurious doors of the banquet.

What was even more strange was that, despite being late, no one stopped her from entering.

***

Entering through the door, Rosalie didn't shy away from the prying eyes that fell on her as soon as she got inside.

The event manager recognized her and greeted her with a smile.

"Miss Rosalie, you've arrived."

There was relief between the brows of the event manager. But how could it now be when everyone on the staff team anxiously prayed for her to appear?

"Where's my grandfather?" Rosalie moved her gaze away from the event manager and scanned through the banquet hall. Although she had already expected where her family members were from her memories, she still looked around to see how many faces she clearly remembered from the guests who attended the party.

So many faces… All of them played some role in her demise.

And Rosalie will give each of them a matching gift that suits them perfectly.

Clenching her fist, Rosalie wished they knew what they did to her. Then she would've been able to laugh at their hypocritical faces!

But she can wait.

There's no need to stain her hands today.

After all, today's center of attraction isn't them. It was—

"Rosalie?"