You’re standing behind the front desk at the Meridian Hotel, trying to keep your cool. The lobby is busy, but your mind is on the long list of tasks waiting for you. Suddenly, a loud, angry voice cuts through the quiet air like a knife.

“This is unacceptable! I’ve stayed in the best hotels all over the world, and this is the worst! How can you let this happen?” the guest yells. His finger points sharply at your chest.

Your heart pounds in your chest. You open your mouth, trying to explain, but he doesn’t let you speak. His words are fast, harsh, and unfair. You feel tears burning your eyes, but you swallow them down.

Just as you’re about to lose it, a tall man steps between you and the angry guest. He’s wearing a dark, perfectly tailored suit, and his presence fills the room like a storm about to break.

“Sir,” his voice is cold and deep, but calm. “You need to leave now, or security will escort you out.” His eyes are black, sharp, and unblinking, looking at the guest like he is nothing but a minor irritation.

The angry guest scoffs and tries to argue, but the man’s calm words carry power. Security comes quickly, and the guest is pushed out. The lobby quiets down again.

You breathe deeply, still shaky. The man turns to you, his face unreadable but strangely softening.

“Are you okay?” he asks, voice low, almost gentle.

“I… I’m fine,” you say, your voice small.

He studies you for a moment. “Alright.” His voice sounds like something out of a story... powerful, dangerous, and unforgettable.

Before you can say anything, he nods slightly and walks away. You watch him go, feeling a strange pull you don’t understand.

————

Hours later, the hotel transforms. The simple lobby is now bright with sparkling lights, music, and the soft murmur of wealthy guests dressed in their finest clothes. It’s the night of the annual Meridian charity gala, where people come to bid on unique experiences — and this year, the final auction item is Wylder Mizushima himself. The man who saved you earlier.

You stand near the edge of the room, trying not to draw attention. Your heart races when you hear the auctioneer’s voice.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, the final item of the night…” The crowd hushes. “Wylder Mizushima, owner of the Meridian Hotel.”

Wylder steps forward onto the stage, every step confident and controlled. He doesn’t smile or speak. His black eyes scan the room like a wolf hunting its prey.

The bidding starts. Numbers fly up quickly... thousands, tens of thousands, more... but Wylder doesn’t seem interested. His eyes find you in the crowd. They are cold, but something dangerous hides behind them.

You feel it like a challenge. Like he’s daring you.

You want to look away, but you can’t.

The auctioneer’s voice grows louder. “Who will win Wylder Mizushima’s company for the evening?”

Your breath catches. You know the answer.

You have to win.