"Yes — yes, of course, Sir." Lydia's fingers moved to the keyboard, her earlier performance forgotten entirely, replaced by the efficient compliance of someone who recognised an unmovable instruction.
But as she processed the check-in, her mind raced, her thoughts drifted back to the man from minutes ago... Howard Sterling.
'Was this man related to him?' she wondered, but then she immediately shook the thought away. 'No, there is something far more twisted at play here.'
She remembered the woman's reaction... the way she had visibly flinched at the unspoken mention of the man currently upstairs. It was a tell-tale sign of a deeper, darker connection.
"Don't tell me..." Lydia mused, a sharp, cold thrill running through her. Outwardly, she maintained her mask of professional indifference.
These types of situations weren't new to her. She had worked at the Red Rose long enough to recognize the architecture of a high-stakes scandal when she saw it.
