Meanwhile, the elevator beeped open on the floor the receptionist had confirmed as Selina's reserved room. Zane stepped out, brows furrowed, jaw tense, muscles coiled like a red bull ready to charge at the one daring to pull the red cloth.
He strode down the bright, narrow corridor toward room 303. Along the way, he noticed a young man with a moustache approaching.
The man held a folded magazine to his mouth, revealing only piercing grey eyes. One hand rested behind his back on his waist.
Their paths crossed. Zane's lethal glare met the figure, but the man didn't flinch. He walked past with a triumphant smile, confident he had passed unscathed. Zane was too focused on Selina to notice anything else.
Without warning, he yanked open the doorknob and barged in.
