Gordon spoke in a calm tone, “He’s taking care of something for me.”


    Sophie nodded, saying. “Then, should I…


    She nced around, noticing the absence of people. If what happened earlier were to ur again, it


    wouldn’t be pleasant.


    The area was surrounded by stairs on all sides. It was far from being disabled–friendly.


    “Then, should I help you upstairs?”


    “Thank you, Ms. Sophie.”


    Gordon seemed to have anticipated Sophie’s offer and epted without any hesitation.


    Sophie regretted her formality a bit as she bravely walked behind Gordon, pushing his wheelchair


    Today, Gordon was wearing a simple white shirtplemented by gold–rimmed sses. His features


    were sharp and distinguished, with a high nose bridge, making his face look sculpted from ice.


    Sophie asked, “Which room do you stay in, Mr. Gordon?”


    *712”


    N?velDrama.Org holds text ? rights.


    Sophie was startled. “7127”


    “Why? Are you familiar with it, Ms. Sophie?”


    “No, I just think that the number seems nice.”


    712 was actually her birthday.


    Gordon’s expression remained mild. “This is where I usually work. Sometimes, to avoidplications


    with business, I stay here.”


    “Oh.”


    Sophie wondered. What did that have to do with her? It sounded like he mentioned it on purpose.


    Sophie felt she might be a bit vain to think that perhaps it was just a casual remark?


    They reached the seventh floor quickly, and Sophie helped Gordon into room 712. Upon entering, a


    subtle fragrance filled the air, and although the room’s decor was simple, everything within it was rare


    and of high quality.


    “The decor here is quite different from the outside.”


    “It’s my ce, so naturally, it’s different.”


    Of course, you’re the boss. Your word isw!‘


    The Diamond Crest Hotel was thergest business hotel in Devonport, boasting the finest furnishings


    and amenities. This room was even more luxurious than the Diamond Crest Hotel’srgest presidential


    suite.


    Sophie asked, “Mr. Gordon, what did your assistant go to do?”


    “There was some trouble downstairs. He went to handle it. He should be back soon,” Gordon spoke


    lightly, “Ms. Sophie, please have a seat and enjoy some coffee.”


    “I’m not much of a coffee drinker.”


    “We have sweetenedtte.”


    Sophie had intended to find an excuse to leave, but then Gordon mentioned the trouble downstairs.


    It must have been about Nichole.