The storm began shortly after sunset.
Dark clouds gathered above the skyline, swallowing the last traces of orange light until the city was buried beneath a restless gray sky. By eight o'clock, rain was hammering the streets, turning sidewalks into rivers and blurring the lights of passing cars.
The Regent Crown Hotel stood like a silent sentinel in the middle of the chaos.
Built nearly eighty years earlier, the hotel carried a quiet elegance that felt untouched by time. Marble floors gleamed beneath golden chandeliers, and the long hallways were carpeted in deep crimson.
But that night, something inside the building felt wrong.
At exactly 10:47 PM, the phone at the front desk rang.
Receptionist Anita Sharma answered it lazily.
"Regent Crown Hotel, how may I help you?"
A nervous voice replied.
"This is housekeeping. I've been knocking on the door of Room 309 all evening. The guest isn't answering."
Anita frowned.
"Maybe he went out."
"No," the housekeeper whispered. "His 'Do Not Disturb' sign fell earlier. The lights are on."
Anita hesitated.
Room 309 belonged to Sanjay Malhotra, a wealthy tech investor who had checked in two nights earlier.
He had specifically requested privacy.
Still, something about the housekeeper's tone unsettled her.
"Call the manager," she said quietly.
Ten minutes later, the hotel manager, Pradeep Verma, stood outside Room 309.
The hallway was silent except for the distant rumble of thunder.
Pradeep knocked.
"Mr. Malhotra?"
No answer.
He knocked again.
Nothing.
With a deep breath, he inserted the master key into the lock.
The door opened slowly.
The first thing he noticed was the smell.
Sharp.
Chemical.
Then he saw the body.
A man lay on the floor beside the bed.
Motionless.
Dead.
Pradeep stumbled backward.
"Call the police," he whispered.