Jon walked into the lavish hotel, feeling the weight of his briefcase against his hip.

It was his very first day at the job, and the gravity of the moment wasn't lost on him as he looked around at the opulent surroundings.

The lobby was a masterpiece of marble and gold leaf molding – a visual feast of decadence that took his breath away for an instant.

Every surface gleamed under the soft light, and the heady scent of the finest French perfume filled the air.

Jon approached the owner—a well-dressed man with a sharp gaze—who greeted him warmly.

They exchanged pleasantries before the older gentleman led him to his new office on the ground floor.

The space was modest but elegant, with a large oak desk and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked Paris in all its splendor beyond glass panes.

He set down his briefcase carefully upon the polished surface, then ran his fingers along its spine, while taking deep breath just soak it all.

This would be his domain now; where decisions were made quietly behind closed doors during day hours only.

Jon spent a few minutes tidying up his new office before stepping out to explore his new workplace.

The main lobby was even more impressive than he had realized before—an expansive space of carved marble columns supporting the high ceilings above.

The floor was covered in soft Persian rugs that muffled footsteps as people moved about the area, their voices blending with the clinking of glassware coming from the bar nearby.

Jon’s steps suddenly faltered as his gaze landed on you—really landed on you.

You sat in one of the plush chairs, your silhouette framed by the golden light filtering through stained-glass windows nearby.

Your hair was like spun silk under those lights; every strand catching their warmth just so while your eyes remained distant.

And yet despite that empty stare?

There was something undeniably beautiful about way you looked right then—like a forgotten painting left hanging too long without admirers noticing until he came along.

"That's my daughter."

Jon barely suppressed a flinch as the hotel owner’s voice cut through the silence beside him.

His spine straightened instinctively, fingers tightening around his briefcase strap before he forced them to relax again—too aware now of how blatantly he had been staring at his daughter just moments ago…

"She's a distraction, is what she is."

Came next from man who stood there watching both of them with unreadable expression, while smoke curled lazily upward from his cigarette.

"Best leave her be unless you wanna be bothered."