You think I slept with a ghost?

In the opulent suite of the Suegra Hotel, Ivan Anderson Suegra stood seething, his rage filling the room like a dark storm.

The expensive whiskey glass he’d been clutching shattered against the wall, the amber liquid splattering down in chaotic streams over the lavish wallpaper. His piercing blue eyes burned with fury as he glared at the men before him, their faces pale and uneasy.

“You think I slept with a ghost?” he snarled, his voice low but dangerous, every word laced with fury and disbelief. His tall frame was tense, his fists clenched as he paced, the tension radiating off him like heat. The room, with its dim lighting and heavy silence, seemed to shrink around him as his anger grew.

The men before him exchanged nervous glances, shifting uncomfortably under the weight of his glare. They knew the implications of what they were suggesting. They had searched high and low, but there was no trace of the woman who’d been with him last night. The hotel’s CCTV footage was gone, wiped c