Jenna's lips curved slightly, but skepticism flickered in her eyes. "Really?"

Gavin nodded eagerly, his tousled bangs swaying. "Absolutely. If our presence bothers you, we'll vanish immediately."

Her fingers paused on the wineglass, its facets catching fractured light. "That's not what I meant," she said, softening her tone. "I just find the coincidence... curious. But paying customers are always welcome here."

"Thought we'd been blacklisted." Gavin chuckled, tapping the crystal glass. "Another pour, Miss Roland?"

As amber liquid barely coated the base, sharp knocks erupted at the door.

All heads turned as Patrick entered, bowing apologetically. He murmured excuses to Gavin's group before pressing close to Jenna's ear. "Emergency. Now."

Her brow furrowed. Only one VIP caused this level of panic.

She returned the bottle to its ice bucket with deliberate calm. "Excuse me, Mr. Valentine."

Under the corridor's dim sconces, Patrick's left cheek bore livid finger marks. "Lucien Valois demanded you personally," he whispered. "Stella's unconscious from the slap."

Jenna's pupils contracted.

Lucien had tracked her down. Worse—his brutality extended even to assaulting managers publicly.

"The boss's orders?" Her fists clenched.

"Go immediately!" Patrick stamped his foot. "Mr. Ashcroft already called Ethan Roscente. God knows why he—"

Her breath hitched.

If even Tristan Ashcroft feared retaliation, the Valois family's reach exceeded rumors. Elevator numbers blinked as her nails carved crescents into her palms.

Meanwhile in VIP 308, Gavin's phone illuminated.

Ethan's voice held glacial shards: "Guard Suite 888. If Lucien touches one hair on her—" A lighter snapped open. "—beat him to pulp."