Lana’s POV
The soft hum of the ballroom faded behind me as I stepped out into the hotel lobby. My heels clicked softly against the marble floor, the lingering notes of jazz and laughter fading into the distance. The air outside the private hall was cooler, calmer, a sharp contrast to the simmering tension that had followed me all evening. I just wanted to breathe, to be alone for a moment.
But before I could reach the exit, a voice called, “Miss, hold on?”
I turned, a bit startled. The hotel manager, a man in a crisp black suit and gold name tag, hurried toward me with a polite smile. His demeanor was respectful, even slightly nervous.
“Forgive me for stopping you,” he said, bowing slightly. “But… are you Miss Lana?”
“Yes,” I replied cautiously.
He straightened with a small wave of
