Chapter 3: Chapter 3: The Office Summons

The heavy knock of Mrs. Danvers' heels echoed behind Elena as she followed her into the narrow hallway that led to the staff office. Each step they took felt like a countdown, tightening the knot in Elena's stomach. She had never liked this hallway—its cold walls, dim lighting, and the faded motivational posters did little to hide the gloom that clung to this part of the hotel.

Mrs. Danvers didn't speak. She never did when she was angry. Her silence was far worse than yelling—it was a brewing storm, and Elena knew better than to try to explain herself until she was asked.

When they reached the office door, Mrs. Danvers swung it open sharply and gestured inside with her chin. "Sit."

Elena stepped in quietly. The room was small, cluttered with old files, a humming desktop fan, and the sharp scent of air freshener that tried to cover something moldy. She sat down on the edge of the metal chair, her hands folded in her lap, willing herself not to shake.

Mrs. Danvers stood behind the desk like a judge in court. Her hands clasped behind her back, she stared at Elena with narrowed eyes. "Do you know why you're here?"

"No, ma'am," Elena replied, her voice soft.

"Oh, don't play innocent. Room 308. The guest called and complained that you were rude."

Elena's heart dropped. "Rude? I—I wasn't rude. I simply asked if she wanted her towels changed."

Mrs. Danvers raised an eyebrow. "And how exactly did you ask her? With that tired attitude you wear every day like a badge?"

Elena opened her mouth but closed it again. Defending herself would only make things worse.

Mrs. Danvers leaned in. "Let me remind you, Elena, there are dozens of girls out there who would take your job in a second. All it takes is one more complaint. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, ma'am," Elena said, feeling the sting of humiliation rise in her chest.

Mrs. Danvers sat down, flipping through a file without looking at her. "You've been late three times this month. Your uniform looks wrinkled. And now this complaint." She paused, then looked up coldly. "We can't afford slackers."

Elena clenched her jaw. "I have a younger sister. I get her ready for school every morning. Sometimes—"

"This is a hotel, Miss Hart. Not a charity."

The words hit like a slap. Elena looked down at her hands, her knuckles turning white. She didn't trust herself to speak again. She couldn't afford to lose this job. Lily depended on her.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. A calm, confident knock—not the hurried kind of someone afraid to interrupt. Mrs. Danvers scowled. "What now?"

The door opened, and in walked the same man from the lobby—the man in the sharp, tailored suit with the piercing blue eyes. Elena froze. What was he doing here?

"Good afternoon," he said coolly, his gaze flicking from Mrs. Danvers to Elena. "I hope I'm not interrupting."

Mrs. Danvers stood quickly. "Mr. Blackwood—of course not. Please, come in."

Blackwood. Elena's mind raced. So this was Damian Blackwood, the rumored new owner of the Vantage Heights Hotel.

"I was just passing by and overheard something about Room 308," he said, his voice calm but laced with something sharper. "Was there an issue with the housekeeping?"

"Yes, there was a complaint," Mrs. Danvers said smoothly. "But we've handled it—"

Damian held up a hand. "I'd like to speak with her. Alone."

Mrs. Danvers blinked. "Alone?"

He nodded. "Please."

For a second, Mrs. Danvers looked like she might argue. Then she gave Elena a sharp glance and swept out of the room.

The door clicked shut behind her.

Elena looked up at him, nerves jumping in her chest. "Sir, I didn't mean to cause trouble—"

"You didn't," he said simply, walking over to the desk. He leaned against it, arms folded. "That woman treats you like garbage."

Elena's mouth parted, unsure of what to say.

"I saw how you handled that woman in 308," Damian continued. "You were calm, polite, even when she was being completely unreasonable."

"You saw that?"

He nodded. "Security footage and my own two eyes. I always pay attention to who works in my hotel."

Elena swallowed hard. This didn't feel real.

Damian's voice softened just slightly. "Don't let people like her make you forget your value."

Elena stared at him. "Why do you care?"

He gave a small, almost amused smile. "Let's just say I believe in rewarding strength. And I think we'll be seeing more of each other, Miss Hart."