The car dropped them off in front of the hotel as if they were entering a palace disguised as modern civilization—sparkling marble, chandeliers that seemed to capture stars, and a luxurious silence that muffled even their own thoughts.
Vergil walked through the reception area as if he owned the place, a shadow with a purpose. Roxanne, at his side, looked like an exotic goddess who had just descended from a divine stage — her hair loose, her eyes shining, her smile satisfied.
The elevator took them straight to the penthouse, and when the doors opened, they revealed the most expensive suite in the complex: a panoramic view of the illuminated city, translucent curtains floating with the air conditioning, a hand-carved marble bathtub, and a bed so large it seemed made for bored gods.
"Vergil..." Roxanne said, looking around with an expression somewhere between awe and theatrical reproach. "You used the Sapphire black card for this, didn't you?"
