The interior of the Aurora Royale Hotel was a breathtaking tour de force of opulence and grandeur, a dizzying testament to the alchemy of luxury and refinement. As Ethan stepped into the lobby, he was enveloped in a warm, golden luminescence that seemed to undulate across the marble floor like a gentle, sun-kissed wave . The air was heavy with the heady scent of freshly cut flowers, the intoxicating aroma of expensive perfume, and the soft, velvety hint of cigar smoke wafting from the nearby lounge, where the crème de la crème of society gathered to savor the finer things in life .
The lobby was a hive of activity, a frenetic yet elegant ballet of guests and staff moving purposefully about, their faces a blur of intent and purpose, like skilled performers executing a well-rehearsed choreography. The sound of soft jazz drifted through the air, a soothing melody that underscored the gentle hum of conversation and the occasional, crystalline tinkle of glassware . A stunning crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, its facets reflecting the light and casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the walls, like a masterful painter wielding a brush dipped in stardust .
Ethan strode confidently past the reception desk, his eyes fixed on the elevators, as the three female staff members, resplendent in navy blue formal wear, couldn't help but steal glances at the enigmatic artist, their eyes drinking in the primal aura of elegance that emanated from him like a palpable force.
To Ethan's left, a majestic staircase curved upward, its banister adorned with intricate gold filigree and a plush, crimson carpet that seemed to glow from within, like a river of molten lava frozen in time . The walls were adorned with original works of art, each one a masterpiece in its own right, and the floor was polished to a mirror-like finish that reflected the grandeur of the space, creating a dizzying sense of infinity .
The sounds of the lobby were a symphony of luxury: the soft rustle of expensive fabrics, the muffled click of designer heels on marble, and the occasional, sotto voce murmur of a discreet conversation in a corner . The atmosphere was alive with an undercurrent of excitement and possibility, as if anything could happen at any moment, like a coiled spring waiting to be released .
He strode purposefully towards the elevator, his eyes intently fixed on his smartphone as he scrolled through the tidal wave of notifications and comments on his TikTok account 📱. The screen glowed with an ethereal blue light, casting a faint glow on his chiseled features as he reviewed the highlights of his concert, his face a mask of concentration. The sound of his own voice, amplified by the thousands of screaming fans, still echoed in his mind, and he was desperate to see the footage, to relive the rush of adrenaline and excitement.
As he waited for the elevator, he absently pressed the button, his focus still riveted on the screen, his thumbs scrolling through the comments with a practiced ease that belied the intensity of his gaze. The soft, melodious chime of the elevator arriving was like a gentle punctuation mark, a soothing sound that seemed to harmonize with the rhythm of his thoughts . The doors slid open with a soft whoosh, releasing a faint whisper of chilled air that carried the scent of lavender and vanilla, a subtle reminder of the hotel's luxurious amenities.
Ethan stepped inside, his gaze still transfixed on his phone, oblivious to the two teenage girls occupying the space. They were dressed in trendy outfits, their hair styled to perfection, and their eyes shining with a mixture of excitement and nervousness as they gazed at Ethan's profile . "Is that really him?" one of them breathed, her voice barely audible over the sound of the elevator's gentle hum, her eyes darting furtive glances at Ethan as she tried to muster the courage to approach him.
The other girl nodded, her eyes wide with excitement, as she replied in a hushed tone, "Yes, it's K! I told you he's even more gorgeous in person!" Her voice trembled with excitement, and she clapped her hand over her mouth, as if trying to contain the sound. They began to frantically fix their hair and makeup, using the reflective surface of the elevator doors as a makeshift mirror, their movements a blur of nervous energy.
Their whispered argument over who would get the first autograph was cut short as the elevator doors slid open, and Ethan walked out, leaving the girls to their disappointed whispers
.He was greeted by the tranquil opulence of the hotel's penthouse suite, the soft glow of the LED lights and the plush carpet beneath his feet a soothing balm to his concert-weary senses. The air was thick with the scent of freshly cut flowers, and the distant hum of the city outside created a sense of isolation, a bubble of luxury that enveloped Ethan like a cocoon .
After a few moments of walking, Ethan placed his hand on the door handle, the fingerprint recognition system identifying him with a soft click, and the door swung open, revealing his luxurious suite.
Ethan's suite was a luxurious haven, a 9th-floor oasis in the heart of the city's most exclusive skyscraper. As he entered, the soft glow of the LED lights enveloped him, casting a warm, golden ambiance over the sleek, modern decor . The air was filled with the subtle scent of freshly cut flowers, and the distant hum of the city outside created a soothing background melody.
To his left, a fully equipped kitchen gleamed with stainless steel and polished granite, a haven for the culinary-inclined . The countertops were adorned with a selection of gourmet snacks and a chilling bucket of champagne, accompanied by a delicate glass vase holding a single, exquisite orchid.
The living area was a masterclass in minimalist chic, with plush, cream-colored sofas and a low, glass coffee table that seemed to float on the shimmering floor . A state-of-the-art sound system provided a soft, jazzy soundtrack, while the walls were adorned with original works of art, each one a masterpiece in its own right.
But the pièce de résistance was the view . The floor-to-ceiling windows framed a breathtaking panorama of the city's night awakening, a kaleidoscope of lights and colors that seemed to stretch on forever. The embers of lights from the other buildings twinkled like stars, and the distant hum of the city created a sense of excitement and possibility.
The bedroom was a tranquil retreat, with a plush, king-sized bed and a soft, white duvet that seemed to invite Ethan to sink into its depths . The walls were adorned with rich, dark wood paneling, and the air was filled with the subtle scent of freshly laundered linens.
As Ethan entered the luxurious suite, the soft glow of the LED lights enveloped him, casting a warm, golden ambiance over the sleek, modern decor . The air was filled with the subtle scent of freshly cut flowers, and the distant hum of the city outside created a soothing background melody. He placed his phone on the small, marble center table, the gentle cl placement punctuated by the soft chime of the phone's screen locking into standby mode.
With a tired sigh, Ethan retreated to the bathroom, shedding his sweat-drenched clothes as he went. The sound of rushing water cascaded through the air, a symphony of splashes and gulls as he rinsed the sweat off his body. The shower's warm embrace was a balm to his concert-weary muscles, and he lingered for a solid five minutes, letting the water wash away the fatigue.
Wrapped in a plush, white bathrobe, Ethan emerged from the bathroom, his hair still damp and fragrant with the scent of citrusy shampoo . He padded across the room to the dressing table, where the landline phone beckoned, its sleek, silver body gleaming in the soft light. He lifted the receiver, and the phone's gentle chime filled the air as he dialed the cafeteria.
"Hello," he said, his voice low and smooth, like honey poured into a warm cup.
"Room service, how may I help you?" a melodic voice replied, the tone efficient and friendly.
ETHAN: "Could you please bring up some food to room 35 on the 9th floor? Something light, not too oily, if you please."
A brief pause, the sound of typing on a keyboard, and then, "Understood, your request will be served in 5 minutes."
ETHAN: "Okay, thank you."
The phone's soft click echoed through the air as Ethan terminated the call, the silence that followed filled only by the gentle hum of the city's nightlife . He turned to the wardrobe, its doors sliding open with a soft whoosh, revealing a array of impeccably tailored clothes. He slipped into a pair of black jeans and a black shirt, the fabric smooth and cool against his skin.
As he buttoned his shirt, his smartphone, still lying on the center table, suddenly sprang to life, its screen lighting up with a soft, blue glow . Ethan's eyes flicked to the phone, and he smiled, his fingers moving with practiced ease to unlock the device using his fingerprint.
The screen lock unlocking, a message from Nicor, his editor and handler, flashed on the screen in bold, digital font: "Come to the studio ASAP." Ethan's eyes narrowed as he read the message, his mind racing with possibilities. He knew this might be more important than eating at the moment; Nicor's urgency was palpable, even through the cold, digital words.
Ethan swiftly switched off his phone, the screen fading to black as he tucked it into his pocket. He turned to leave, his movements economical and precise, the soft rustle of his clothes the only sound as he exited the suite.
The lift whisked him down to the garage, the floors ticking by with a soft, mechanical whine. As the doors slid open, Ethan was greeted by the pungent smell of gasoline and polished leather, the scent of luxury and power. The garage was a cavernous space, the rows of expensive cars stretching out like a showroom. Ethan's eyes scanned the surroundings, his gaze lingering on the sleek lines of a Porsche, the curvaceous body of a Bugatti, and the imposing presence of a Rolls-Royce. But he didn't pause, his focus fixed on finding his Lamborghini Sian.
After a few moments, he spotted the Sian, its futuristic design and angular lines making it stand out even in this illustrious company. Ethan's stride lengthened as he approached the car, his hand reaching out to touch the door handle.
Just as he was about to grasp the handle, a black BMW drove by, its engine roaring as it swept past him. Ethan turned, his eyes narrowing as the BMW slowed and stopped a few meters away. The tinted glass flowed down, revealing a gloved hand holding a 2k pistol, the muzzle pointing directly at Ethan.
Time seemed to slow as Ethan's heart skipped a beat. The sound of the gunshots was like a crack of thunder, the sharp reports echoing through the garage: Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom. The muzzle flashed, the bright orange sparks illuminating the darkness.
END OF CHAPTER 3