Part-5 Fiddling around her

"I will go, but my backpack is missing. Where is it? And do you know what kind of place this is? And how dare you bring me here?" She said with an attitude. Yes, her tone was polite, but I could see the attitude on her face.

What? Really? Instead of showing me gratitude, she's offending me? Yes, I am taking her words as rudeness. How dare she question why I brought her here? I should have left her in the car to freeze in this cold weather. That's why I replied cunningly, curling my lips in a grimace, "Your huge backpack is in my car, and you should be thankful that I brought you here instead of leaving you in the car. You must have turned into a polar bear by now if you had stayed there. And what's wrong with this place? Yes, it may not be up to my class, but you probably can't afford this place either."

Upon hearing this, her face completely changed, as I gave her a reality check. She must have been hoping for some kind of miracle, like getting a time machine or teleporting out of there, after speaking rudely. But alas, nothing like that was going to happen, and she couldn't avoid the situation. However, this girl proved me wrong and left me speechless by saying, "I guess you surely don't know what kind of place this is, so let it go. Give me my backpack so I can leave from here, as you said I can't afford this place. It's better if I leave without waiting for your next insult."

Her retort left me rooted in place. No one had ever talked to me like this before, and I was burning with anger, but she seemed delighted to stand her ground.

I grunted, saying, "You will get it once Mr. Baker arrives," and left from there, recalling my reason for walking in the corridor before colliding with her. I didn't leave because of her retorts. If I had wanted to, I could have taught her a lesson, but I chose to maintain my dignity instead of stooping to her level.

Ms. Gray's remark about "what kind of place is this" still lingered in my mind as I left the room. I couldn't understand why she seemed so bothered by the place. To me, it was just a simple motel, and it served its purpose for the night.

But then again, I hardly cared about the place or its ambiance. For me, comfort and luxury were of utmost importance, and that's what I usually sought. I never bothered with trivial details or the opinions of others.

However, Ms. Gray's reaction had struck a chord with me. It was unusual for someone to question my choices, and her words kept gnawing at me. I tried to brush it off, telling myself that she was just being dramatic or overly sensitive.

With these thoughts, I reached the reception to vent my anger, but I was alarmed to see Mr. Claire there, exchanging dollars and notes with the manager.

Mr. Claire, a part of yellow journalism whose only job is to write articles about my life, filled with my secrets like where I am residing and with whom, what I am eating, whom I am dating, and his favourite topic, with whom I slept. It can easily be speculated that he knows more about my one-night stands than I do, and he might even possess those model cards which I don't have.

However, for two months, he hasn't bothered me. There are other pests after me, but not as troublesome as him. There was a time when he exposed my life to the world like an open book, but two months ago, my company sued him for publishing a fake story and tarnishing my image by associating my name with a company model and leaking some inappropriate photos.

I wouldn't have done much as it wasn't the first time, and it wouldn't have affected me. However, Mr. Claire joined hands with my rival and made some nasty claims with that model about me being a womaniser. They even claimed that the model is pregnant with my child and that I forced her to have an abortion. They supported their claims with some forged documents, giving my stepfamily an opportunity to jeopardise my position. As a result, I had to take legal action against them.

I did more than just sue them for ten million dollars. I caused them to lose their jobs, exposed their bogus claims, and publicly revealed their motives. I even dug up some dirt on their partners.

Seeing Mr. Claire today, he must have received some tip about me being here, but do I care? Do I need to hide or camouflage myself to avoid him? No, I decided to give him something exclusive. But before I could do anything, his voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Are you sure Ms. Ariana Gray is here?" It was Mr. Claire's voice, as he wanted to confirm.

"Ariana Gray? Do they mean Ms. Problematic? Who is she? As much as I know Ryder, he doesn't run after someone who isn't prominent. If he's interested in Ms. Gray, then surely there's something about her that I don't know," I thought to myself.

"Of course, Ryder. Don't you know I have never given you wrong information?" The manager replied, counting dollars.

"Ariana Gray can bring me back to my position," I could see how much Ryder grinned naughtily while saying it.

"You only gave me a single tip. Don't forget I also told you about Aiden Connell," the manager tried to say, but Mr. Claire interrupted him annoyingly, "Mason, didn't I tell you? For the time being, I need to stay away from that bastard's news. He destroyed my career. But wait and watch, once I go back to my place, I am going to avenge him in the worst way. But right now, I am only interested in Ariana Gray. Tomorrow's headline will read that she is in a B-grade motel, spending a night with some businessman."

I chuckled for a few seconds, enjoying Ryder's frustration. He badly wanted to see that look in my eyes, but then his last words hit me. I realised what Ms. Gray meant by her words when she mentioned "what kind of place is this." Also, I remembered Ms. Gray is in my room, and if Ryder sees her there, he will create a fuss about it. This will surely trouble me, as there's an election in three months, and I don't want any predicaments.

Keeping a hand in my pocket, I turned and went back inside the room to look for her. To my astonishment, she wasn't there.

"Where did she go?" I murmured, thinking about what to do next. Then, my gaze shifted towards my magazine, which was open with a piece of paper on it. My wallet was on top of the paper.

"Thank you, Mr." I became confused while reading the note. I recalled telling her my name, but she wrote as if I didn't.

"Don't worry, I am not going to create any problems or use any strings for you. I am leaving because it's dangerous for us to stay here, but don't get too excited. I will be back soon for my things, so I dared to throw away anything that belongs to me. I am taking some dollars from your wallet as my money is in my bag. You are welcome to take my money. I hope you remember my name, and sorry, but I don't recall your name because when you told me, I wasn't in my senses," I read her lines repeatedly and checked my wallet. Indeed, some dollars were missing. But for the first time, I didn't get angry at someone who touched my belongings and felt some pangs in my heart. Ignoring that feeling, I took my bag and headed outside as Mr. Baker contacted me.

To be continued.