"No more lies."
I retorted again and again, as many times as I could, so it would stick.
And then, I said it one last time, my mind idling. "No more lies."
This was the last time I was telling a lie to Dwain.
For the sake of love, I'd lied to escape Horton's mansion.
Why?
Tonight was very pivotal to the success of my plan.
Yes, I had a plan, a dangerous one.
And I'd vowed to follow through to the end.
If it wasn't for the lie, I would have been somewhere in the mansion dying of guilt, cursing, and crying myself to sleep.
I gulped.
The last thing I wanted tonight was to get caught.
"No more lies, Ellis."
The evening sun was casting long shadows across the brick pavement, creating a sense of foreboding that matched my emotions.
My chest constricted as I approached the luxurious hotel Elisabeth talked about.
My outfit, a flowing dress in a soft pastel color, adorned with intricate patterns, reflected the complexity of my thoughts.
The delicate fabric swayed with each step, mirroring my uncertain eyes, trembling hands, and hesitant footsteps.
Ahead of me stood the place where Elisabeth had spent a night with Dwain and claimed to have been raped the next morning.
Though Dwain had already clarified the doubts, saying he was innocent and that nothing had happened that fateful night, Elisabeth refused to believe his side of the story without tangible proof.
I was here to get proof.
I was here to prove Dwain's innocence and free him of Elisabeth's revenge.
Why?
By so doing, I hoped for Elisabeth's cooperation.
Elisabeth would understand my sincere feelings for Dwain and allow me to tell him the truth about my identity.
If Dwain's innocence were proven, Elisabeth wouldn't be a threat to my relationship.
Elisabeth's grudge against Dwain was a ticking bomb.
I knew it could explode at any time.
And I didn't want to bear the consequences.
So, I chose to sacrifice myself for the sake of love.
I was giving myself a chance to love, a chance to start over without lies.
Nestled amidst gleaming skyscrapers, the opulent grandeur of, "Serenity Inn," undeniably exuded an aura of power and wealth.
Its towering facade, adorned with glistening glass panels, stood as a testament to its dominance in the realm of luxurious hospitality.
Its exotic design and extravagant decor whispered tales of secrets hidden within its walls, secrets of that famous night that became a mystery.
I stood outside the grand entrance of the hotel, its grandeur exuding extra power, blood-stained money, strict dominance, and recalcitrant arrogance.
A lump built in my throat.
Should I have stayed home?
Was it a good idea to show up here?
Should I have called Dwain?
Should I have informed Orlando about my whereabouts?
I shook my head, "No more lies, Ellis."
This was the only way out, the safest way out.
Clutching onto the handle of my purse, my fingers trembled with curiosity, fear, and hesitation.
I had spent a sleepless night, my mind filled with doubts and questions.
But I was determined to find the truth about Elisabeth's allegations, and the hotel's security recordings held the key.
I had an assignment.
I had to confront my fears, to seek the truth that lingered in the shadows of doubt.
I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what lay ahead, and stepped into the grand lobby.
Inside the hotel, the atmosphere was suffused with an air of exclusivity.
The scent of fresh flowers and polished wood filled the air, mingling with the soft melodies of a piano playing in the background.
Lavish marble floors guided guests through palatial corridors, while crystal chandeliers cast a dazzling glow upon every surface.
Attentive staff, trained to cater to every whim, moved with an air of confidence, embodying the hotel's unwavering commitment to extravagance.
Every corner whispered tales of success, as the hotel reigned supreme, reigning over the city like a majestic monarch.
The atmosphere was one of elegance and sophistication, but I couldn't help but feel a twinge of unease.
I approached the front desk, my eyes drawn to the receptionist.
She was a middle-aged woman with a cool and professional demeanor.
I hesitated to speak for a moment, unsure of how to broach the subject.
I had to ask about the video recordings from a year ago, but I feared the receptionist's reaction.
My nerves were tingling.
"Excuse me," I began ever so politely, my voice barely above a whisper. "I was wondering if it would be possible for me to see the video recordings from the night of March 15th last year."
The receptionist was a picture of polished professionalism.
She regarded me with a raised eyebrow, her expression guarded.
"I'm sorry Ma'am, but we don't usually grant access to our security footage to the public."
A knot tightened in my stomach.
Her response was a blow to my gut.
At that instant, the walls seemed to close in on me, but I fought to keep my composure.
Though I had expected some resistance, I hadn't anticipated a complete lack of cooperation.
My heart sank deeper than the Titanic, but I refused to give up.
No more lies, Ellis.
I had to approach the situation with a cold head.
I had to approach the situation from another angle.
I had to approach the situation from a more convincing angle.
No more lies, Ellis.
I took a deep breath, summoning my courage.
"I understand your policy, but I need to find out the truth," I pleaded, my voice quivering with uncertain emotions. "I need to know if my husband was here that night, and if he... cheated on me."
That was the last straw.
The old lady was just a stranger, and there wasn't time to tell her the whole story.
By the way, the truth wasn't her cup of tea.
She didn't need to know the details of my mission.
I had no choice, but to tell a lie.
And then, tell another lie which prompted more lies.
I brushed my nose, tears in my eyes.
"Please, help me. My marriage is at stake."
The receptionist's eyes softened for a brief moment, a flicker of empathy crossing her face, but it was quickly replaced by a professional mask.
"Ma'am, I'm sorry for your concerns, but I can't just grant access to our security footage without proper authorization," she replied, her tone firm.
I almost collapsed at the surge of frustration pressing my nerves.
It won't end like this.
It couldn't end like this.
I couldn't let this end here.
I'd come too far to give up now.
The tension in the air was palpable, mirroring my internal struggle.
"Please," I implored, my voice halting in my throat. "I just need to know the truth. I can't live with this uncertainty any longer."
The receptionist hesitated, her gaze wavering.
I could sense a battle raging within her, torn between her duty and a glimmer of compassion.
After what felt like an eternity, the receptionist sighed and nodded.
"Alright, follow me."
Her voice was barely audible.
My heart leaped with fragile hope as I followed the receptionist through a maze of corridors.
I couldn't help but notice the portraits of distinguished guests adorning the walls, a testament to the hotel's exclusivity.
Finally, we arrived at a small security office tucked away in a dimly lit corner of the hotel.
I could hear the hum of computers and the whir of surveillance cameras, their watchful eyes capturing every moment within the hotel's walls.
The security officer at the desk eyed me with suspicion as I approached, but the receptionist spoke up before he could voice his objections.
"She needs to see the footage from March 15th last year."