Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption

Chapter 314: Are you sure you want to play this game with me?

The voice on the other end of the phone paused briefly as though weighing the vice and words.

Davis wouldn’t doubt he was surprised to hear from him, and possibly, he might have checked his phone again to admit the contact was from him, but the situation at hand doesn’t give him the privilege of formality or the opportunity of a trip down memory lane.

Noticing the pause stretching longer than necessary, Davis parted his lips to issue a stream of instructions—only to be cut off as the man on the line launched into a flurry of questions.

"Allen Davis? Is that really you?"

"Did you say ’suite’? Wait—are you in my hotel?"

"Which one exactly?"

"What’s going on that needs my manager’s attention?"

"Should I come over, or will you be alright?"

Davis sighed, rubbing the tension from his temples before responding coldly, "Grand Duke Hotels.".

"Frank, is there a problem?" he asked, his voice sharp.

"No, no... I just thought of something... never mind," Frank replied, letting out a measured breath.

"Alright," Davis said.

He didn’t want to press further and wasn’t ready to startle the snake, he couldn’t at the moment make out the people involved in this matter.

As the call ended, he turned to Ethan. "Find out how many people have booked rooms here. And check if there was any shady coordination around this hotel’s reservation."

The pause on the call still nagged at him. Every single detail at this minute was important.

"Sent to mail, the building plan." Ethan smirked.

Davis nodded, his hand deftly flying over the keyboard of the laptop he had taken earlier from Ethan.

With Ethan’s words, he went through his mailbox and downloaded the 3D graphic file of the building. Swiftly, he studied the graphic.

His voice broke the silence, a quiet analysis of the structural design. "Three hundred rooms, various sizes. Ten floors. Multiple conference rooms, and each floor has event halls with adjacent rooms. Those rooms can be rented together with the halls."

Davis dialed out to Richard. He picked up at the first ring.

"Did you book the entire floor?" Davis asked.

"Entire floor?" he repeated suspicion creeping in his mind.

"Yes, we booked."

"Alright, go on with your affairs," Davis said, and the call ended.

As he casually dropped the phone beside him, a flurry of footsteps sounded outside the door, followed by a gentle tap on the door. Ethan glanced at him briefly, seeking his approval.

With his subtle nod, he ushered the person in. "Come in," he said.

The door was pushed open, and a young middle-aged man stepped into the suite, bowing slightly as he stepped in. Behind him were several hotel staff, one of whom carried a tray with an exquisite bottle of wine.

The man’s gaze quickly took in the arrangement of the suite: the soft whirring sound of the air-conditioner, the mattress in order, the lighting and fittings in place.

Confirming with the appearance and arrangement of the suite, he sighed softly.

"Welcome to our hotel, Mr. Allen," he said, and also echoed dutifully by the staff behind him.

Davis’s cold, penetrating gaze swept across the group, finally settling on the manager, whose composure was already cracking under the pressure, his body trembling lightly with one thought going through his mind—To attend to him and leave...

"My boss sent his warm welcome," the manager reiterated as he took the tray from the subordinate and set it down on the side table.

He straightened his back and awaited his words to know his next line of action, his boss’s warning still ringing in his ears: noveldrama

"Attend to his every need. I am on my way. And if anything goes wrong, I will not finish with you."

"Send your men back. I only asked for you." His cold, detached voice rang through the room.

The manager spun around. "You can go back," he instructed.

The subordinates were relieved, as though they had been granted amnesty. Ever since they stepped into the room, their breathing had been coming in thin, shallow gasps, the air around them chilly and depressing.

Seeing them scramble away at lightning speed, the manager’s lips twitched lightly. Bracing himself, he faced Davis as he struggled to maintain composure.

"I need the surveillance video of the other floors."

"Surveillance video? Other floors?" the manager asked with furrowed brows. "I don’t think..." he began.

"What don’t you think?" Davis cut him off, his glare on him piercingly cold.

"I’m sorry. I will show you," he said, bowing slightly.

His thoughts raced. This suite belongs to Angel’s Wears... but now he’s here, asking about surveillance. Could he know...?

He darted a quick glance at Ethan, then back to Davis, and swallowed hard. His hands trembling, he could feel the sweat clogging every inch of his body.

Davis, staring at him, noticed his unnatural expression which was too unnatural to ignore. Without a word, he picked up his phone and texted: "Keep an eye on the manager. His attitude is suspicious seems he’s probably hiding something."

Ethan read the message and subtly glanced at the manager, then his gaze returned back to the system.

Davis stood and crossed the room in quick strides, but when he reached the door, the manager hadn’t moved.

Davis stopped and looked over his shoulder. "Can we go?" he asked with a faint smirk.

Snapping out of his daze, the manager nodded quickly and led the way into the hallway.

Davis held out his hand as he passed Ethan. Without a word, Ethan placed a small, black magnetic device in his palm. Davis slipped it into his pocket and followed the manager out.

The manager walked ahead, trying to appear composed, but Davis caught his eyes flicking toward every door they passed. When they walked by what was supposed to be the fittings room, the man’s gaze lingered just a second too long.

Davis didn’t react. He kept his expression cool and indifferent, observing without revealing anything.

As they turned a corner toward another hall, the manager took a steadying breath.

"Sir, our surveillance room is in the secluded part of this building and a bit far. I hope you will understand," he explained.

"It’s no problem, as long as I can check on it." He smirked, his gaze cold and detached.

The manager nodded and quickened his pace, visibly eager to get it over with.

Davis followed, calm and precise but couldn’t shake the feeling that he is being plotted against.

But once he was certain of their direction they are headed, he stopped in his tracks. He would be a fool to be schemed against by manager.

"Are you sure," he said, voice low and laced with steel, "you want to play this game with me?"

Hearing his statement, the manager shivered lightly. His heart thumped wildly but then this is a task he must finish.