As the lobby lights dimmed and the hotel transitioned into closing hours, Noah made his way downstairs to see the lady off. Most of the staff paused to admire him from a distance, his effortless charm, the aura of fame that clung to him like expensive cologne. Whispers floated through the halls, and eyes followed him with admiration and awe.
All except one.
Rassel, who was quietly finishing her closing duties, did the opposite of everyone else. The moment she spotted him, she panicked and slipped behind a service trolley, hoping he wouldn't notice her. She whispered under her breath, "It's just my first week... I can't afford to get fired."
But Noah noticed.
As he walked the lady to the elevator and saw her off with a courteous nod, his eyes subtly scanned the lobby and lingered briefly on Rassel's retreating figure. Unlike the others, she wasn't seeking his attention. She was trying to vanish.
That made her stand out.
By the time he returned from the elevator, a decision had already formed in his mind. He veered off toward the manager's office with a calm sense of purpose. Meanwhile, Rassel had already wrapped up her shift. Being in her first week, she had permission to clock out earlier than the rest. She gathered her things and hurried out, eager to disappear before anyone remembered her face, especially his.
Inside a small taxi weaving through the quiet night streets, Rassel finally let herself breathe. She laughed softly, telling herself, "Even if he reports me, they won't find me till tomorrow."
Back at the hotel, Noah stood in front of the manager's desk.
"I'd like to assign the lady who brought me towels earlier as my personal server during my stay," he said.
The manager blinked in surprise. "You mean Rassel? She's new. I could assign someone more experienced, someone who—"
Noah cut him off gently but firmly. "No. I don't know her name, but that's the one I want."
The manager nodded quickly, eager to meet the wishes of their most important guest.
Unaware of the decision that had just been made on her behalf, Rassel leaned her head against the taxi window, watching the city blur past. She thought she had escaped the day's disaster. But she had no idea her life was about to be pulled even deeper into Noah Matthew's world.
Morning had barely broken Rassel's just got to work when her phone buzzed with a notification from the manager's office. Her fingers trembled as she unlocked the screen, uncertainty clouding her thoughts.
"Did he report me? Am I getting fired already?"
Dread settled in her chest like a weight as she made her way through the quiet halls of the hotel. Her first day had ended in disaster, and now, her second was beginning in fear.
At the office, she was handed a small slip of paper with no explanation, just a written message:
"Report to Room 709. You've been assigned."
Rassel's eyes narrowed. Room 709? That was the room from yesterday.
"This is punishment," she muttered under her breath, gripping the paper tightly. "What kind of bad karma have I brought on myself?"
She barely heard the rest of what the staff said before walking out, a tight knot of dread twisting in her stomach. She had hoped never to see Noah Matthew again, but it seemed fate had other plans.
With trembling hands, she carried extra towels and amenities to Room 709. She paused before knocking, repeating her silent mantra:
Knock before you enter. Knock before you enter.
When Noah's voice finally called out from within, her voice came out in a breathless whisper.
"Good morning, sir."
She attempted to ask how his night had been, but the response was clipped and cold.
"Great."
She nodded and turned to leave quickly, but that wasn't the end of it.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. Noah summoned her repeatedly for all sorts of tasks some needed, others clearly designed to wear her out. She tried her best to keep up, but frustration simmered beneath the surface.
At last, unable to hold back, she spoke up.
"Sir… please. Can you tell me everything you'll need ahead of time? It would be easier than going back and forth every few minutes."
His expression turned sharp.
"Are you complaining? If you're tired, I can have you replaced. Or better, fired."
Rassel bit her tongue, bowing her head.
"I'm sorry, sir."
But her thoughts screamed: It's only my second day… and this already feels like hell.
Noah looked at her a moment longer, then turned away.
"Get ready. We're going out."
Her eyes widened. "I don't understand. Outside? Am I supposed to follow you everywhere, too?"
"Yes," he said simply. "You're my personal server. Wherever I go, you go."
The weight of those words settled heavily on her chest.
Panicked, she fled to the manager's office for clarity, but he was nowhere to be found. In desperation, she asked the older staff.
They gave her knowing looks.
"It's special treatment," one said. "Only for guests like Noah Matthew. If he asks for you, you serve him wherever he goes."
Rassel staggered back, overwhelmed.
"I swear this is karma," she whispered.
Later that afternoon, she walked beside Noah as he exited the hotel for a series of appointments. Her smile was forced, her steps robotic. Inside, her thoughts raged.
This isn't real. Working as a personal servant to Noah Matthew? What kind of joke is my life?
Beside her, Noah glanced down. "What's funny?" he asked, catching the small curve of her lips.
"Nothing, sir," she said quickly.
The day stretched long. Meetings, social visits, and everywhere they went, Noah drank wine, cocktails, whatever was offered. As the night wore on, his steps grew unsteady.
Back at the hotel, he slumped onto his bed with a heavy sigh.
"Help me with my shirt," he mumbled, clearly intoxicated. "I'm too tired."
Rassel froze. "I… I don't think that's appropriate, sir."
He looked up, eyes bleary yet intense. "Just help me."
Reluctantly, she stepped closer. Her hands shook as she reached for his shirt buttons. Each undone button revealed sculpted skin, and her breath hitched. She had heard stories of Noah Matthew's allure, but seeing it this close was entirely different.
For a second, their eyes met. A beat passed. She felt the electric tension, the danger of a moment slipping out of control.
But just as quickly, she stepped back.
"I'll leave now," she whispered, almost stumbling over her own feet as she fled the room.
Outside, under the cool night sky, she pressed a hand to her chest. Her heart was still racing.
This was no ordinary assignment.
This was the beginning of something she couldn't yet name, something that would unravel everything she thought she knew.