Chapter 96
The restroom was silent—almost reverent.
Marble stretched beneath the warm light, catching faint golden reflections like liquid sun pooling at the edges.
The air carried the quiet sting of citrus and something clean, expensive—like the ghost of a luxury hotel that forgot to age.
Water rushed faintly from a distant tap, breaking the stillness just enough to remind the room it was alive—polished, private, and far too perfect for mistakes.
Then came the sound of a faucet shutting off. Precise. Sharp. A pause, then one of the stall doors swung open with a soft metallic creak.
A man stepped out, drying his hands with a crisp towel, whistling something slow and solemn.
His footsteps clicked against the marble, each echo a reminder of his brief intrusion.
Then—silence again.
Only the hum of the AC filled the void, deep and constant. For a moment, one could almost believe the place was empty.
But it wasn't.
