Chapter 2 Aubrey.

"You have to serve the man in Room 404, Aubrey, and make sure you're proficient and adept," Mr. Brown's words echoed in my mind.

My hazel eyes shimmered as I gulped hard, reminiscing about the stern instructions my boss had given me earlier at the hotel. I stood nervously outside the door to Room 404.

I am Aubrey Smith-half Indian, half Mexican. I had just turned 19 last year and arrived in Country X to intern at Heaven. I was the youngest staff member: timid, reserved, and inexperienced.

"Mind you, Aubrey, there mustn't be any carelessness or clumsiness from you, or else you'll be laid off," Mr. Brown had yelled when I was selecting a bottle of wine from the rack. His fierce, icy brown-black eyes bored into me as his words drilled in the warning. His paunch loomed intimidatingly, amplifying my petrified state. I lowered my head, unable to do anything but whimper.

Mr. Brown is a direct, efficient, and tough man. As the manager of Sweet Heaven-a five-star hotel owned by our enigmatic boss-he strictly enforces the rules, and none of us dared to disobey.

"Yes... Yes, sir," I had whispered, barely audible. He glared at me one last time before walking away, leaving me trembling under the weight of his expectations.

Now, standing outside Room 404 with a bottle of wine in my hand, I felt like my fate hung by a thread. This one task could either solidify my hard-earned job or terminate it.

The man inside this room was clearly important to Mr. Brown. I didn't know how important until days ago, when our manager announced his arrival. Mr. Austin Hunt-a name that sent shivers through every staff member. He was a renowned business tycoon, one of the most influential elites in the world. The announcement had left the entire room silent as we absorbed the weight of his presence.

"Calm down, Aubrey. It's just a drink-it's not like it's your first time," I whispered to myself, trying to steady my nerves.

"But he's not just anybody," my inner voice taunted. "He's Mr. Hunt."

My hands trembled as I reached for the door handle. Anxious and on edge, I leaned against the door, listening for any sounds from inside. Nothing.

"You've got this, Aubrey. No mistakes," I muttered, inhaling and exhaling deeply. Summoning every ounce of courage, I knocked lightly, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Room service, sir."

"Come in," a cold, deep, hoarse voice replied from inside.

The tone sent a chill down my spine. My fragile confidence crumbled, leaving me nearly paralyzed. Tightening my grip on the wine bottle, I slowly pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The room was empty, though the faint sound of running water from the bathroom hinted at his presence. A subtle yet distinct scent of fresh peony cologne filled the air, likely his signature fragrance. I exhaled sharply, realizing I'd been holding my breath.

The room was extravagant, with spacious interiors, its own balcony, a private pool, and a gym. It was the most luxurious room in the hotel. As I moved to place the wine on the table, my gaze wandered to the trophies neatly displayed in a glass cabinet-symbols of his accomplishments.

"You're so lucky, Aubrey," I could almost hear my coworkers' voices teasing me. "You get to serve Mr. Hunt in place of Miss Isabella. A blessing in disguise."

Or was it just bad luck?

I frowned at the thought.

"He's so elegant-every woman's dream man," Rhea, my best friend, had said with dreamy eyes last week when we discussed his arrival. Rhea, with her vibrant green eyes and confident demeanor, was my opposite in many ways. We were both chambermaid and shared an apartment, but she was bold where I was reserved.

"How do you even know that, Rhea?" I had asked skeptically.

"I just know, Aubrey. He's perfect," she'd replied with confidence, brushing off my doubts.

"Well, I suggest you drop any unrealistic fantasies about him. It'll only end in heartbreak," I had advised her.

"I trust my heart, Aubrey. When it falls, it falls completely-unlike you, who'll probably stay a virgin for life," she'd teased, rolling her eyes playfully.

"Really?" I'd muttered, focusing on my chores.

Now, I filled a glass with Mr. Hunt's favorite wine, setting it carefully on the tray. Mr. Brown's icy voice replayed in my head, fueling my restlessness.

Suddenly, the bathroom door swung open, startling me. I lost my balance, the tray tilting dangerously. Bracing for the impact and pain, I shut my eyes tightly, expecting disaster.

But it never came.

Instead, I felt strong arms wrap around my waist, steadying me against a warm, bare chest. The sensation of skin against my hands made my eyes fly open in shock.

And there he was.

Mr. Austin Hunt.