"Here! Take this and go!" the woman snapped, clearly at the end of her patience, and flung a black bank card toward Hera's face.
"The password is six sevens. There's fifty thousand in it. Just take it and leave."
She turned her head away with a dramatic huff, arms crossed tightly over her chest, dismissing Hera as if she were no longer worth another second of her time. Her entire posture screamed arrogance and entitlement.
The Frenchman looked like he was about to blow a fuse, his jaw clenching, but before he could speak, Alice—who had been silently watching the entire exchange like it was some entertaining soap opera—suddenly chimed in.
"Look, Liz, why don't you just take the offer? That's fifty thousand dollars for a room you didn't even pay for," she said with mock reason. "It's easy money, and she probably is someone important—maybe a relative of one of the competition's higher-ups. Wouldn't it be smarter to just give up the room and avoid trouble?"
