Chapter 3

During the morning meeting, the general manager announced the news of the “important guest” checking in and expected all department managers to supervise those under their command to ensure that they were as careful and meticulous as possible.

As the housekeeping manager who had frequent direct contact with the “important guest,” Larissa was held back for extra instructions and exhortations. “Mr. Rogers has extreme germaphobia, so the rooms must be kept clean at all times. Work together with the reception; the moment they see Mr. Rogers heading out, tell the cleaning staff to clean his rooms immediately. Additionally, the cleaning staff are not allowed to touch Mr. Rogers’ personal effects. Not even once!”

Larissa thought it was a little ridiculous. “But what if Mr. Rogers left his clothes or whatever on the bed or something? Do we not make the bed for him then, just to avoid touching his clothes during cleaning?”

“Firstly, with his personality, Mr. Rogers would never just toss his clothes onto the bed. Secondly, even if he did, it’s better to wait for his return before you make the bed. Touching his things is an absolute no-no. Last year, something like this occurred in the main branch of the Regal Dynasty in Bartham. A cleaning staff moved Mr. Rogers’ laptop in order to wipe the table. When he found out, the housekeeping department, from managers to cleaning staff, all resigned.”

The general manager was stern. “I’m reminding you for your own good. Don’t take it for granted.”

“I will keep it in mind, Mr. Compton!”

When Larissa left, she immediately called for a department-wide meeting and conveyed the general manager’s explicit instructions to them. To ensure no mistakes were made, she specifically arranged for the two oldest and most experienced cleaning staff in the department to be in charge of cleaning the presidential suite.

Kevan went out rather early and did not return even after Larissa’s shift had ended at 8 pm.

the same unknown number after

voice on the other end was terribly hoarse, as if he were trying to

the other end and quickly said, “Of course, Mr. Rogers. I’ll

pajamas and headed upstairs with her long hair wet. 8888 was the room number of the Regal Dynasty’s presidential suite, which was also where Kevan Rogers was staying. Larissa stood outside the door

Kevan

loosely tucked into his silvery gray pants. The other side of the

from the collar were loose. It revealed his slender neck, well-defined clavicles, and slightly defined

considering the fresh smell of shower gel wafting off of him. His hair was not entirely dry

was outright

slammed shut with a loud thud, and Larissa’s back collided against the solid, cold

eyes widened in shock.

unnatural flush. His kiss was fierce and frantic, as if he were

to push him away, but the disparity in strength had her essentially pinned to the door. She was so panicked that she hit and kicked him.

him, but it encouraged him further. Leaning close to her ear, Kevan murmured, “Have you forgotten how your husband betrayed

her short skirt. Her rationality told her, “No! You can’t!” But

was all but dead, why could she not indulge herself?

her arms around Kevan’s neck. Receiving her response, Kevan’s dark eyes snapped open, revealing a strange gleam within

Larissa passed out.

ringing of a phone. The room was still dark due to the curtains covering the windows. She cracked open an eyelid and reached out for the

“Hello?”

nasal twang shocked

A

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