Lynette stepped out of her room alongside Miss Abigail, adorned in a dazzling halter cow-neck jumpsuit that shimmered with sequins . The sleek, sleeveless ensemble hugged her curves in all the right places, its bodycon design exuding both elegance and sensuality.
The outfit, though daringly short, revealed her long, flawless legs—smooth, sculpted, and impossible to ignore.
Her black stilettos clicked softly against the floor, perfectly matched to her designer handbag. Around her wrist gleamed a luxurious timepiece—one of the latest limited-edition watches, not yet available to the public when she had acquired it. Lynette had always been ahead of the curve.
Her makeup was immaculate, accentuating her natural beauty with a soft yet sultry finish, and her dark hair was styled into voluminous waves that cascaded gracefully over her shoulders—both crafted carefully by Miss Abigail's practiced hands.
Neither of them addressed the message Abigail had seen earlier, the one from Kevin Gael.
As Lynette descended the grand staircase, she turned to Abigail and said with a polite smile, "I suppose you're done for the day. Thank you. Have a lovely night."
Abigail handed her the essentials—her phone, purse, and a scarf. Lynette raised a brow at the scarf, puzzled.
"A scarf?" she asked. "Does this go with the outfit?"
Abigail's smile was subtle. "Not exactly. But sometimes, it's not about fashion. You never know when you'll need it."
Lynette gave a slow nod, accepting the scarf without further question. "Alright."
With that, she walked confidently out the door. A bodyguard opened the car door for her, and she stepped inside . Her four personal guards filed into the second vehicle behind hers.
Just as her driver began pulling away, another car turned into their residence drive—Arian's.
From his window, Arian caught a fleeting glimpse of Lynette, her head lowered, absorbed in her phone screen. For a brief moment, his eyes lingered on her.
And then, they were gone.
***********
As the car cruised through the roads, Lynette leaned forward slightly and gave the driver her destination—Kevin Gael's hotel.
For a moment, she debated whether bringing both the driver and her full security detail was a wise choice. The idea of telling them to linger somewhere while she slipped away felt suspicious and impractical.
"I really need to learn how to drive,"
she thought with mild frustration.
Soon, the car pulled into the entrance of Mystique—a grand, sprawling hotel with elegant architecture and a glowing reputation. One of the most prestigious chains in the country, Mystique was well-known for its luxury, though it wasn't the heart of the Gael family's empire. Their true power lay in Gael Research and Technology, a titan in innovation and science.
Among the country's elite bloodlines, the Gaels were not only old money—they were influential and brilliant.
Lynette peered out the tinted window, her heart fluttering against her ribs as she looked at the hotel.
"Let's get this over with," she murmured to herself.
"Inform the bodyguards I'll be going in alone," she instructed the driver calmly.
He nodded and relayed the message through his earpiece before stepping out and opening the door for her.
"Thank you," Lynette said softly as she exited the car.
She straightened herself and glanced toward the building. Through the tall glass panels, she could see guests mingling in the well-lit lobby. And in that moment, a wave of realization struck her—she hadn't brought anything to conceal her identity.
"Lynette Daelan walking into Kevin Gael's hotel? That headline would spread like wildfire.
I don't want my problems. I already promised a new art series... and I can't even sketch a decent apple."she said
Then it hit her—Miss Abigail's parting words about the scarf.
Lynette swiftly reached for the car door, opened it, and retrieved the scarf from her seat. Standing tall, she took a calming breath and began wrapping it around her head making sure it draped over her nose and jawline. She adjusted it carefully, cautious not to smudge her makeup or disturb her perfectly styled hair.
One thing's missing, she thought, shades.
But she hadn't brought any. No time to worry about that now.
With the scarf in place, she stepped forward—head high, strides poised. Her heels clicked against the floor as she walked toward the grand entrance of Mystique Hotel, confidence radiating from her with every step.
The lobby lights reflected subtly off her sequined halter jumpsuit, and though the scarf concealed part of her face, the rest of her presence was striking—elegant yet bold.
She glanced down at her watch. 10:22 PM.
Twenty-two minutes late.
As she entered, heads turned. Murmurs passed through small groups of guests, their eyes following her as she made her way across the opulent lobby. For a second, Lynette tensed—wondering if they had recognized her.
But as she scanned their expressions and caught fragments of whispered admiration, she realized something else entirely.
They weren't whispering because they knew who she was.
They were whispering because of the way she looked.
The glittering jumpsuit, the way her long, bare legs caught the light, her commanding stride—they were simply in awe of her presence.
With her heart now steadier, Lynette moved through the lobby like she belonged in every spotlight.
*******
Moments later, Lynette stepped out onto the floor where Room 207 was located.
Down the hallway, she could already see two guards standing rigidly in front of a door. She didn't need confirmation—she knew this had to be Kevin Gael's room.
As she approached, one of the guards stepped forward and asked in a firm tone, "Who are you?"
With a calm motion, Lynette unraveled the scarf from her face and let it fall around her neck. "Lynette Daelan," she said, her voice steady and cool. "Your young master was quite eager to see me."
The guard eyed her briefly, then turned and stepped inside the room.
While she waited, unease began to coil in her chest like a tightening rope.
What if it was Kevin Gael who orchestrated Lynette's disappearance?
Her eyes flicked up and down the hallway.
If he killed me here, would anyone know? No one knew which room she had gone into.
The CCTV footage could easily be wiped clean. After all, it was the Gael's hotel and they had the resources to make any trace vanish.
They'll protect their young master, Kevin Gael.
Her breath caught.
What if he doesn't kill me... but something worse happens? What if he tries to force himself on me? Maybe I didn't read about his crimes because his family buried them all.
Her instincts screamed. Her heart pounded.
This was a mistake.
She began to step back, her heels clicking softly as she silently considered leaving.
But just then, the guard reappeared and opened the door, his face unreadable. "You may go in."
Lynette hesitated for a heartbeat.
Then she exhaled, straightened her posture, and stepped forward into the room.
The interior was lavish—high ceilings,modern chandelier sparkled above, and soft jazz music drifted faintly from hidden speakers. It was unmistakably a VVIP suite.
She looked around, but there was no immediate sign of Kevin.
Across the room, in a corner section where a sleek laptop sat open on a desk, Kevin Gael was typing with focused intensity. He heard the distinctive sound of high heels tapping against floors.
He paused and knew she had entered
Then he grinned and stood up slowly, straightened his shirt, and stepped into view.
His eyes landed on her—and for a brief second, he couldn't help but marvel. Wow.