The stalking had stopped as suddenly as it had begun, and Julia had indeed kept her promise to ensure my safety. However, she never revealed whether it was the Volkners who had been behind it, likely due to her connection with Maria, who was also the stepmother of her employer.
I could not help but feel remorseful for the threat I had made over the phone, but perhaps it had played a role in capturing Maria Volkner's interest in me. Regardless, I had reached a point where I no longer cared about the details.
Months passed, and life returned to normal. I continued to grow closer to Julia with each passing day. We made plans for vacations, but our busy schedules often got in the way.
I began saving money for my next trip, dreaming of visiting France, specifically Paris. Curious about the cost of hotel rooms in France, I visited the Hotel Caelus website to explore my options.
The prices for hotel rooms in Paris were staggering, starting at a minimum of 10,000 euros per night—almost twice my monthly salary. I couldn't help but burst into hysterical laughter when I saw the exorbitant rates. If the Lake Como hotel had seemed expensive, this Parisian luxury was in a league of its own. From the interior photos, it appeared to be a castle even grander than the one in Como.
I could never afford it. Nor could I ever enter that place.
Then I realized why the price was so astronomical. The hotel in Paris was a 7-star establishment, whereas the one in Como had a 5-star rating. Additionally, France served as the main headquarters of the Hotel Caelus chain, which explained the premium pricing. I shared this revelation with Julia, and she explained that the Parisian hotel was almost always fully booked due to its popularity among wealthy patrons. While Lake Como offered quieter and more affordable options, the Parisian hotel was something out of a fairy tale. We giggled throughout the night about this stark contrast. Julia playfully suggested that I write another piece of "Peasant Literature" to Maria or Rhys Volkner in the hopes of securing a few days' stay at their luxurious hotel. I jokingly agreed, as long as it meant free breakfast at the hotel every day.
We laughed at our poverty, we laughed at our rich taste in luxury.
I may not have been able to afford a stay there, but I promised Julia that I would at least stand in front of the building once and take a selfie. She could then send it to the Volkners, just for fun..
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I booked my trip to Paris for the second week of August. Instead of staying in a hotel, I opted for a more budget-friendly option by booking a cheaper Airbnb. Knowing that I was planning to indulge in some extravagant shopping, I wanted to save on accommodation costs.
On the first day of August, I received a call from someone named Amanda.
She informed me that I had been selected as the lucky winner of a 100,000-euro award from the Hotel Caelus group.
"I don't believe you; I didn't participate in such things," I spoke.
"Well, Mam. We arrange this type of lottery prize every year for our customers who stay in any of our hotels. This year, it was you, whose name came in the random lottery. Luckily."
Oh my God, she sounded so fake.
"How will I know you are not lying?" I asked.
"Well, a parcel will reach out to you within 3-5 business days. It will have all the information on how you can spend the money in one of our establishments." She added from the other end of the phone.
"What? So, I won't be getting any cash?"
"No mam, it was 100,000-euro credit to your guest wallet in Hotel Caelus. You can only spend it in our hotels."
"But I am not going to book any rooms now. I can't. I can't afford it. It is expensive beyond my imagination." I admitted. I was almost happy to have free 100k in my bag.
"Well, Mam. Luckily, you can book rooms with this credit." She replied.
I smiled. I knew where this was going. It might be a gift from Mamma Maria herself.
"Well, can you call me after 2 hours again? I am at work.". I lied.
"Yes, sure mam." She said and hung up with a goodbye.
I called Julia immediately to share the surprising news. She seemed taken aback but remained unusually quiet on the phone, quite unlike her usual chatty self. Nevertheless, she assured me that she would look into it and get back to me with more information soon.
30 minutes later, she called me back.
"Yes, Kaya, the news was authentic." She confirmed.
"But you never told me about such a thing when I complained to you how expensive their hotels are?" I asked.
"Well, this type of award is not available for Como hotels or any Volkner hotels in Italy. That's why I didn't know about it." Julia was good at telling some quick lies.
"Hm. So, should I take the offer? Cancel Airbnb?" I asked.
"Yes, you should. Tell the operator that you will book the Paris hotel for a few nights. Then you can spend some money in restaurants in hotels." Julia added without missing a beat.
I knew it was all an elaborate drama from Maria or Rhys Volkner to meet me in Paris.
"Can I ask you something, Julia?" my tone changed. The other side was silent.
"Is it Maria who's behind all these?" I asked.
Julia was silent for a few seconds.
"I don't know what you are talking about." She spoke and hung up the phone.
I lowered my phone from my ear while grinning. She was right in our boat ride at Lake Como. I was going to meet the Volkner Matriarch sooner.
Ahhh.... time for some dress shopping and some facials. Also, I needed to bleach my teeth to match Maria's Colgate smile. I looked at my arms and legs and realized a good old waxing was the most necessary thing I needed.
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Three days later, I found a letter on my doorstep adorned with the prominent Volkner emblem. Inside were detailed instructions on how to utilize the 100,000-euro prize. I diligently completed the necessary forms indicating how I'd like to allocate the credits, signed various waivers, a handful of nondisclosure agreements (NDAs), and other documents pertaining to my credit history. Once all was in order, I sent them back by mail.
Interestingly, I couldn't find any documents or clauses suggesting that the hotel would not be held accountable in case of any harm befalling me during my stay. Maybe they were excessively confident in their security system.
Maybe.
I had a night duty with Suzy as I was going to be on leave. This was unpaid leave as I was about to exceed my paid leave limit. I took the risk of losing some money from my NHS salary.
"Are you alright?" Suzy asked when she dropped me off.
"Why?" I asked.
"You look different these days."
"Bad?" I asked.
"Lethal. Like a snake. Like you're about to bite someone, and you're going to enjoy it," Suzy replied with concern.
I smiled at her. "I am going to Paris to see someone... I think," I replied with confusion.
"A date?"
"Pfft! No! Not a date. A woman. She is a legend, a myth," I spoke.
"Beyoncé? You're attending Beyoncé's concert in Paris?" Suzy almost yelled at me.
I shook my head in disbelief. I wish they knew about Mamma Volkner. Shaking my head with unbelievable circumstances, I bid her goodbye and got out of her car.
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I had booked a British Airways flight intentionally from Heathrow Airport to Charles De Gull Airport in France. When I walked into the ticket booth, they informed me that I was upgraded to first class.
Honestly, I was not surprised. I was so prepared for all this shit and drama.
I had a similar extravagant experience when I returned from Italy, but this time, it felt utterly magnificent. I immersed myself in luxury with an air of ease. I didn't even consider the possibility of missing out on these top-notch privileges in the future. No, I was determined not to let go of this feeling of grandeur. My goal was clear: I aimed to achieve the rank of Senior Consultant in General Surgery, with an income exceeding $100,000. In the years ahead, I pledged to treat my friends to first-class experiences, just as Mamma Volkner had done for me.
As I relished the opulence of my first-class plane journey, I couldn't help but be entranced by its sheer extravagance. Although the flight was relatively short, lasting only 1 hour and 20 minutes, its extravagance left an unforgettable impression. Upon landing in Paris, raindrops created delicate patterns on the three windows beside my first-class seat. Unfortunately, the plane couldn't dock directly at the terminal due to ongoing construction, requiring most passengers to take a bus. However, for first-class travelers like myself, there was a unique experience in store. A small group of impeccably dressed men in black suits awaited us, holding two stylish umbrellas. As daylight faded, twilight cast a gentle glow across the cloudy sky.
However, my gaze was irresistibly drawn to the car waiting for me on the runway. As I descended the stairs, it became increasingly clear that the vehicle parked next to my plane was a sleek jet-black Rolls Royce Phantom. The complete darkness of the runway, coupled with raindrops glistening on its flawlessly polished black exterior, gave it an almost surreal quality.
The inner child in me couldn't contain its excitement, though I maintained a composed expression while descending the stairs onto the runway. I strolled toward the open car door with an air of casualness as if I did this every day. The men around me exchanged perplexed glances for a moment. Then, two of them entered the car and took their seats in front of me. One leaned forward and explained,
"After going through immigration, we will retrieve your luggage and deliver it to you. You can head directly to your hotel or any other destination of your choice. This car has been reserved for your exclusive use, and we'll accompany you.
I met their gaze with a steady look and whispered,
"Why?"
I couldn't help but break into a grin at their response. They were accustomed to dealing with the Volkners, but now they were dealing with me.
The car came to a stop at the terminal entrance, and the French escort guided me through immigration, a process that took less than ten minutes. I observed as the other gentleman collected my luggage and joined me outside the terminal. I hadn't realized that someone could handle your luggage through security.
As we settled back into the car, I decided to initiate a conversation with them. Both were imposing figures, with closely cropped hair and serious expressions. One had striking blue eyes, a strong nose, and a prominent cleft chin. The other possessed remarkable green eyes and blond hair, exuding an air of pensiveness. I inquired,
"What are your names?"
"John," replied the grumpy cleft-chin guy, his face devoid of any emotion.
"And yours?"
"Giuseppe," responded the green-eyed fellow, offering me the most French-sounding name imaginable.
I decided to fuck with them.
"His name is short, John. Why your name is so long, Giuseppe?" I asked. None of them answered. They looked at me with the gaze of steel.
"Let me shorten your name, how about I call you Ju? Short for Giuseppe? Ju?" They both kept the poker face at me.
"So, you two are John-Ju. Ju-John. John and Ju. I'll call you two that." I spoke with a cruel smile. Without turning their heads John and Ju exchanged side glances.
I knew if they had not had the order from superiors, they would have ripped my throat by now.
I smiled at them.
"So, John-Ju, Ju-John, how many people have you two killed in your whole career?" I asked.
Their brows furrowed. I knew I hit the sweet spot. I decided to proceed further,
"How many you two killed for the Volkners? For Maria?"
I asked with a smile. Silence fell on the car's dark cabin.
"We don't work for Maria Volkner, Madam," John spoke finally. I shook my head in disbelief. I knew he worked for Maria. I saw the guards in Como. They were all the same.
The car came to a halt at the hotel before I could say anything else.
"We've arrived," John declared and opened the car door. He did something unexpected, though. John extended his hand, offering to help me out of the car.
I chose to ignore his gesture, and John exchanged a glance with Giuseppe.
To my surprise, there was no immediate sight of the Eiffel Tower from the hotel. Unlike the common perception that the entire city revolves around the iconic iron structure, the tower wasn't visible from this angle. Instead, the hotel itself commanded attention.
The hotel stood at a staggering 15 stories, a departure from the palace-like aesthetics of Lake Como. This place felt entirely different.
Hotel Caelus didn't boast an extravagant logo. It featured a simple, golden star with a delicate, golden line crossing it at its center. From a distance, it could be mistaken for a perfect cross, but it was indeed a star. We passed by the hotel entrance with the prominent Caelus logo and beheld the unmistakable Volkner Emblem positioned prominently atop the wall, directly across from the reception in the main lobby.
If the Lake Como hotel exuded a sense of romance, this one appeared as though it belonged in a dark, futuristic, sci-fi James Bond film. It was a blend of modern design, gothic undertones, and a futuristic edge. The entire place was constructed from black obsidian with intermittent shiny gold accents. Everything glistened like a dark mirror, reflecting my image back at me on the floor, walls, and ceiling. Even my attire—a black turtleneck t-shirt and black jeans—seemed to seamlessly merge with the surroundings. The floor featured intricate golden lines in some areas, and small lights on the ceiling twinkled, mimicking stars.
A massive golden sun adorned the floor, illuminated by the chandelier above. Various golden rings encircled the sun.
Behind the reception, there were jet-black stairs arranged in a crisscross pattern. You could see all the floors from the main lobby, with the grand staircase branching behind the reception and leading in two directions. The staff behind the reception desk didn't seem particularly friendly, except for the female receptionist who greeted me with a smile.
"Good evening, madam. Here's the key to your room. Vincent will escort you to your room," she said, handing me a black metal keycard. A staff member in a black hotel uniform stepped forward, gesturing for me to follow him.
I followed Vincent, and John and Ju tagged along. He led us to an elevator, and I was astounded by its design—double doors and black glass with intricate dark embellishments. It was almost the size of my bedroom. Vincent ushered us inside and pressed the button for the 13th floor.
The 13th floor? I couldn't help but be excited at the prospect of such a view. When the elevator doors opened on the opposite side, we found ourselves in a well-lit corridor, bigger than any hallway I had ever seen. There were only four doors on this floor.
Four suites! This floor could have accommodated at least 50 rooms, but why was I being escorted to a suite?
Vincent guided me to the door at the end of the hallway and opened it for me.
Before me lay a breathtaking night view of Paris that I had never witnessed in any movie or photograph. The resplendent Eiffel Tower gleamed in front of me.
The incredible view extended from the largest balcony I had ever seen, enclosed by a glass door.
The room or, more accurately, the suite was enormous. It featured a dining area, a bar, a pool table, a miniature kitchen, two separate sitting and lounging areas, a fireplace, an infinity pool, a sauna, a mini cinema room that could seat 20 people, a conference room, an office, a small reception area in front of the office, and a library larger than my chicken coop, filled with books. There was even the largest infinity pool I had ever seen at a private residence
This place was larger than any house I had ever seen in real life.
"And this is your bedroom, Madame," Vincent said as he showed me my bedroom after briefly showcasing two guest bedrooms in the suite.
The bedroom was exquisite. It featured a bed placed next to a large glass window. Surprisingly, the bedroom was straightforward and inviting. I would have been more than content if they had just provided me with this bedroom. However, the bathroom exceeded the bedroom in size. It boasted a bathtub positioned in front of a floor-to-ceiling window, a Jacuzzi, two showers, two separate toilet rooms with bidets, and dual sinks. It was complemented by his and her closets, a dressing room, a makeup room suitable for a Hollywood star, as well as a spa and massage room.
I took in the surroundings and slowly approached them. Vincent was standing in front of the remaining two rooms.
"This is the Presidential suite, isn't it, Vincent?"
Vincent lowered his head, and I noticed a smirk forming on Giuseppe's lips.
"I didn't book this suite. I would like to go to the room that I booked." I asked him. Vincent looked away. Then he said,
"We accidentally overbooked your room. This was the only suite that was empty. So, it is yours now for the next 8 days." Vincent lied.
I walked closer to him, where the 3 of them were standing all together.
"Do you think I'm stupid?" I asked them. They did not say a word. Giuseppe had already left my bags in my hers'- closet and was standing there like a fool.
"Do I look stupid to all of you? Like, I won't get it? Why is Maria playing these games?" I asked them.
John looked at me with confusion. And he tapped Vincent's shoulder, a queue to leave.
"Enjoy your stay, Madame," Vincent muttered and they all proceeded to leave me alone in this palace.
"Tell Maria that now she is crossing the limits." I hissed at them. John was standing at the door; he gripped the doorframe and gave me a disgusted look. I was fuming.
"Mrs. Maria Volkner doesn't know a shit about all this. Keep her name away from all these soap operas." He warned me with a lie.
"Liar." I hissed at him again. He looked like he was about to give up. Then he slammed the door in my face.
Feeling somewhat confined, I hurried to my room and retrieved the device I had purchased for detecting hidden cameras in hotel rooms before coming to Paris.
As I strolled through the lavish surroundings with the scanner in hand, I came to the realization that finding anything amidst this opulence would be like searching for a needle in a haystack. So, I quickly made a decision and resolved to concentrate on scanning the areas where I'd be spending the most time: the bedroom, the bathroom, and the balcony.
I meticulously scrutinized each of these spaces, but to my disappointment, I couldn't find anything that remotely resembled hidden surveillance equipment. It was becoming evident that the Volkners might have access to far superior technology than my modest device.
By now, it was nearly 8 p.m., and my stomach was growling with hunger. However, I found myself torn between heading to one of the hotel's restaurants or opting for the convenience of room service.
In the end, I decided to order room service, selecting duck à l'orange, mushroom risotto with truffle, and a cheese salad.
I enjoyed my dinner while seated on my bed, feeling too uneasy to venture to the dining area. It was frustrating to have this upgraded experience that felt more like confinement. The lack of control over my circumstances fueled my frustration.
After finishing my meal, I decided to request room service for cleanup. A young woman named Jennifer arrived, and she couldn't help but notice my agitation.
"You didn't have dessert, Madame," she said softly, clearly empathizing with my mood.
"I'll order one from the bakery," I replied.
"Then order quickly; it closes at 10," Jennifer advised.
I checked my watch, and it was already 9:45.
"Is anything open late around here?" I inquired.
"Only the Oasis restaurant on the 3rd floor, the bar... and the library," she mentioned.
"Library? A hotel with a Library?" I almost mocked her.
Jennifer sighed, "Yes, our management decided to build one two months ago. It's quite beautiful, filled with books, including some older ones. You should check it out; the books are complimentary. It's open 24 hours."
Free Books! Free Books!
It tickled my curiosity. Jennifer understood it. She silently giggled while making my bed.
After completing her task, Jennifer came to take away the food trolley and hesitated for a moment.
"Can I tell you something, even if you don't take it the wrong way?" she asked.
I nodded.
"You are truly, exceptionally beautiful. I mean it, Madame," she said with a shy smile.
I returned her smile in gratitude, though my mind was still clouded with frustration and confusion.
Library. The library it was. I was going to the Library.
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The library was absolutely breathtaking.
As I pushed open the glass door, it unveiled a corridor that lured me into a captivating world of knowledge and wonder. The moment I entered the library, I was left breathless by the sheer beauty that unfolded before my eyes.
The entire space bathed in a mesmerizing bronze-golden glow, casting a warm and inviting aura over everything. Thousands of twinkling lights adorned the ceiling, creating a celestial constellation that seemed to have descended to Earth. At the heart of this celestial display hung a golden globe, defying gravity as it spun slowly on its axis. It was a true work of art, a miniature universe in its own right.
The globe's dance was nothing short of hypnotic. It rotated gracefully, mirroring the Earth's own rotation, with two additional golden rings encircling it, each moving at its own unique pace. One represented the axis of the moon's orbit around the Earth, while the other symbolized the sun's journey through our galaxy. The entire scene was a captivating tribute to the cosmos.
I stood there, completely awestruck and entranced, as time seemed to melt away. The library's ambiance resembled a dreamscape, casting a bronzy-red hue on the floor that perfectly complemented the overall atmosphere. The polished golden borders of the shelves resembled mirrors, reflecting the enchanting world of books that surrounded me. I was dressed in a white georgette wrap-around maxi dress, its semi-transparent puffy sleeves covering my arms, and the skirt cascading gracefully to the golden floor.
The golden lights in the library played upon my skin, creating a soft, otherworldly glow. As the grandfather clock chimed midnight, I found myself standing in front of a shelf filled with English books, just one among the many shelves that held literature in various languages. The library was a haven of knowledge and beauty, a place where time appeared to stand still, and the wonders of the world came to life through the pages of countless books.
The Ultimate Hitchhikers Guide by Douglas Adams. My eyes stuck on it. I read it when I was a kid.
Should it reread it? I started to giggle to myself remembering the plot.
Moments of silence fell in. It was so quiet in this row of shelves.
"Who is your favorite writer?" a low-pitched, velvety, masculine voice graced my ears.
An astonishingly handsome man, clad in a sleek black turtleneck reminiscent of my own attire that evening, approached me. He exuded an aura of confidence, and his mere presence seemed to demand attention.
This man was undeniably tall, standing at least six feet above the ground. His physique resembled that of a swimmer, with broad shoulders that hinted at both strength and grace. His dark brown hair was impeccably groomed, neatly combed, and conservatively styled, framing his features with an air of sophistication. A well-kept dark beard adorned his face, no more than half a centimeter thick, adding a hint of rugged charm to his otherwise immaculate appearance. His V-shaped jawline, sculpted and well-defined, further emphasized his remarkable features.
His strong, bare arms displayed subtle hints of an enigmatic past, with veins and a few discreet tattoos giving him an intriguing allure. Behind a pair of stylish reading glasses, his Prussian blue eyes held a depth that suggested profound intellect and a wealth of life experiences.
He looked very much Middle Eastern.
An Arab? He looked whiter than an Arab.
Did I ever see him? Why did he look like I had seen him before? Why so familiar?d
Suddenly, he appeared nervous, as I kept looking at his beautiful face. Despite the well-regulated air conditioning in the room, beads of sweat glistened on his forehead, betraying his anxiety. His captivating appearance and striking handsomeness only seemed to accentuate the stark contrast of his unease.
"Why would you ask me that?" I inquired, attempting to break the trance that seemed to envelop me. My words, however, carried an unintended edge of brusqueness.
He appeared genuinely bewildered, his gaze darting around as if he were searching for an escape route. This extraordinarily handsome man had an air of vulnerability about him, a quality that struck me as unusual given his imposing presence.
"I... I thought I could help... find your favorite author's book for you. I thought..." His voice wavered slightly, a stark contrast to its deep and resonant voice. His sweating had intensified, with droplets of precipitation catching the light, shimmering like diamonds against his skin.
I giggled a bit. "What?"
He looked at me, and I looked at him. We both stared at each other as if our lives depended on it.
His gaze made all the butterflies in my heart flutter violently. He might be pretty but his gaze had something.
That something was- anticipation, admiration. Admiration with visible confusion.
I realized I was blushing at his gaze.
"I-I think I should g- go." He stuttered a bit. Then he left the row almost marching away without looking at me.
Don't go away!! Come back, come back!! Come back Prince Charming let me see your face for eternity!!
I wanted to yell at him for this.
Ooh, I was such a little flirt! I started to smile from ear to ear the moment he left me alone.
Where did I see him? Why did he look so familiar? Why did he behave so oddly?
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When I returned to my room with "The Ultimate Hitchhiker's Guide," I couldn't contain my amazement. A gasp escaped my lips involuntarily.
The Eiffel Tower, standing tall and proud, was illuminated and shimmering like a radiant diamond against the dark canvas of the Parisian night. The entire city of Paris lay before me, a breathtaking panorama of lights and life.
It was, without a doubt, the most beautiful sight I had ever beheld in my life. I sank into the plush softness of my bed, hugging a pillow tightly as if seeking comfort after my encounter with the enigmatic, beautiful man. My gaze remained fixated on the mesmerizing view, capturing every intricate detail of the city's nocturnal splendor.
For a brief moment, I allowed myself to surrender to the allure of the scene before me, losing myself in its ethereal beauty.
But I had to, I closed my eyes to sleep, wasn't I?
So, I closed my eyes and let my heart take control of my soul for once the very few times of my life.
As I drifted into slumber, my heart's fluttering echoed within the confines of my mind, a gentle lullaby guiding me into the depths of dreams.