A winner

CHAPTER 40: A WINNER

NOAH'S POV

The morning light casts a warm glow across the room. I stretch slightly, feeling the unfamiliar lightness in my chest. My hand instinctively reaches out to the side, only to meet empty sheets. My brows furrow as I shift onto my elbow, scanning the room. 

She's not here.

A small exhale leaves my lip as I sit up.  Rachel must be up already and with her mates in the kitchen. I sit up, running a hand through my hair, and that's when it hits me—the memory of last night. 

A small, unconscious smile tugs at the corner of my lips before I quickly suppress it. I wonder, did she enjoy it? Or was it just the heat of the moment? My fingers brush over the space where she slept before I shake my head and get up. There's no time to dwell on this. There's only one day left before everything wraps up, and today’s event is important.

After freshening up, I head to the venue, where the competition among the hotel staff is already underway. The energy in the air is palpable—cheers and excited chatter echo through the open space. Employees from various hotels are gathered, backing their teams with enthusiastic yells.

My gaze immediately finds Rachel. She's standing among her teammates, her eyes alight with determination. Her colleagues surround her, hyping her up, urging her to give it her all. She shakes off any hesitation and steps forward, ready to compete on behalf of my hotel.

Ah, that is why she woke up early.

  “She’s quite something,” a voice beside me remarks. I turn to find a fellow hotel owner, a glass of champagne in his hand, eyes fixed on Rachel. Desmond by name. I nod as an acknowledgment of what he said earlier.

I say nothing at first, merely observing him. His expression carries interest—too much of it. I don’t like it.

  “She’s hardworking,” he continues. “Strong-willed. You must be lucky to have an employee like her.”

My jaw clenches slightly as I kind of realize that his praises might not be coming from a pure heart. “She’s good at what she does,” I answer.

  “She’s more than just good. I have been watching her ever since she arrived and I am more than pleased with her,” he chuckles. “Say, since she works for you, maybe you could introduce me? I’d love to get to know her. Of course, I won’t mix business with pleasure. I’d take great care of her. We can just get to know each other.”

The way he speaks about her—like she’s some object he can claim—sends a wave of irritation through me. My grip tightens on the glass in my hand, and I tilt my head slightly, giving him a pointed look. “I don’t make those kinds of introductions. That is nothing but nonsense. My employees look up to me and expect me to do well. I won’t let anything lead to them disrespecting me simply because of someone else's inability to maintain boundaries.”

  "You are still as smooth and sharp with your words as ever, Noah. No wonder you don't have friends. I mean who would want to become friends with someone that has this kind of attitude?"

   "I am a man of business and I keep it to that. Friendships with people like you aren't needed. You will only suck the life of me for your own selfish benefits." I reply calmly and he chuckles before taking a sip from his champagne glass.

He shrugs. “Well then. I guess I'll just have to ask her directly.”

My patience thins. He’s still talking as if she’s available as if she’s some prize waiting to be claimed. I swallow the urge to outright snarl at him. Instead, I keep my voice calm but firm. 

  “She’s a married woman.”

That doesn’t stop him. He only smirks, as if he knows something I don’t. “That doesn’t mean anything. Women like her always seem to choose the wrong men—men below their standards, men who don’t love them properly and since they have no chance of escaping the hold, they just remain there. Someone like me could easily change her mind between a lot of attractive things, rescuing her from such a slavish marriage.”

The audacity of this man makes my blood boil. My head snaps toward him, my eyes sharp with restrained anger. “You’re disgusting.”

He chuckles again, unfazed, before shifting his attention back to the competition. I don’t bother entertaining him any longer. Instead, I focus on Rachel, watching as she moves with precision, fully immersed in the game.

Minutes later, an eruption of cheers fills the space. Rachel wins. Her teammates lift her up slightly in celebration, clapping and cheering as she basks in the victory. My chest tightens at the sight of her—beaming, radiant, confident.

Then, as if sensing my gaze, she looks at me. Our eyes meet for a brief moment. A flicker of something unreadable passes through her expression before she simply smiles and looks away.

I am about to smile but I quickly control myself and just continue watching.

Before I can dwell on it, the host calls my name, announcing that I’ll be presenting the award to the winner. I step forward, accepting the plaque and a microphone before turning to Rachel. As she approaches, the crowd continues to cheer.

  "Congratulations," I say into the microphone.

   "Thank you."

When I extend the plaque, she reaches out to take it, her fingers grazing mine. The moment our skin touches, something electric shoots through me. She must feel it, too, because her grip falters just slightly before she steadies herself.

I hold her gaze.

She looks at me.

The noise around us fades into the background. For a second, it’s just us. The warmth of her skin lingers, and something inside me twists unexpectedly.

I quickly break the eye contact and step back.

The host urges us to pose for a picture, and as the camera flashes, I yell my expression into indifference.

But I can’t ignore the way my pulse is still unsteady or the way her brief smile lingers in my mind even after we part ways.

.

,

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RACHEL'S POV

   "You did well today. The opposite team has always been the winner of the game every year, but now we have the crown." Beatrice appreciates my effort as we all walk in, my juniors following from behind while also showering me with their praises.

  "Thank you very much."

   "I aspire to become like you one day, Rachel. I want to work hard and be diligent so I can receive praises like this and make everyone so proud of me." A younger member says excitedly.

   "Well, if you think doing any of these is what will grant you favor in the sight of our boss, then you are missing it already." Sandra interrupts the moment once again with her bad energy and everyone stops to look at her.

   "Must you intend to ruin every good moment we have as a group simply because of your jealousy?" Beatrice scolds her, and Sandra simply laughs hysterically, which soon turns into a snort as she calms herself down.

   "Jealousy? There is nothing worth being jealous about in her life. Moreover, can't I just burst the bubbles of my dear junior by making her understand that life isn't as easy as she thinks it is? Success doesn't come on a platter of gold, it comes because one has cheated their way through."

I roll my eyes, my chest tightening, knowing where exactly she is taking the issue. I just wasn't expecting her to present it with such drama. So I decide to leave but she pulls me back.

   "Where are you going? You don't want to listen? Or are you trying to hide from the embarrassment that will come from your act?" 

I glare at her furiously.

  "What nonsense are you talking about?"

   "That's enough, Sandra! Quit showcasing this unhealthy behavior." Beatrice steps in and releases my hand from her hold but Sandra seems not to care. She then turns to the younger girl who had expressed her will to have my characteristics.

   "For you to succeed and enjoy what she enjoys right now, you'll have to sleep with the Boss," she smirks as soft gasps escape everyone's mouths. She then turns to me after saying that. 

I can't believe it. My fingers tighten onto the plaque that I am holding as I force myself to stay calm.