A Case in Red

Chapter 03

When I entered the lobby, I was met with a level of luxury and sophistication that I rarely see in such perfect harmony, despite the fact that my routine involves dealing with chic and elegant environments. I smelled the scent of Maison Rubra: money and success. The owner of this place knew how to find the perfect balance between comfort and ostentation. The hotel had brought a new meeting point for the Brazilian social elite, and I was willing to do anything to ensure my presence at the future events that will take place here.

The entrance hall was vast, and even though many guests were wandering through it, there was still plenty of space. The floor was made of polished dark marble, with discreet cream-colored rugs. Modern chandeliers reflected an amber glow that intimidated anyone, bringing mystery and power to the atmosphere. I began to walk through the venue, reaching the main hall, where some guests were settled into dark leather armchairs, being served by waiters who constantly checked to see if everyone had a drink in hand. Classical music played refinedly in the background—not too loud, just enough to create a comfortable mood. The place smelled of a woody perfume, hard to describe but easy to captivate anyone's senses, just as it had captured mine.

A waiter came toward me with a tray of red wines. I pondered whether to accept a glass or opt for something stronger, like whiskey, but I remembered that I’m not here to project power like most of these men in tuxedos; I want to project silent grace, measured elegance, and an unshakeable feminine poise. I accepted a glass of red wine and headed to the hotel bar, where I could sit and better observe my surroundings.

A long counter made of black marble beckoned me. The shelves were decorated with bottles of rare labels. The bar was lit with a dim, moody glow, bright only enough for the counter itself, which brought more privacy for those looking to drink in silence. I looked around, everyone distracted and talking, until my gaze met a pair of ice-blue eyes watching me.

I looked away, trying to hide it. Whoever he is, he must know who I am and is probably considering coming over to talk to me. But tonight, the only thing I want is to exchange dialogue with the right people, honor the grand opening, and perhaps offer my services as an international relations consultant. I decided to ignore that beautiful pair of eyes which, I must admit, would have caught my attention in any other circumstance—but not this one.

A few minutes later, I felt a silent presence beside me. I kept my eyes on another point, between my wine glass and the guests in the lounge. If he wants my attention, I’ll make him realize it won’t be easy to get.

— May I offer you a drink? — A deep and, I cannot deny, very sensual voice hit my ears with force. I felt a shiver run down my spine, a sensation I couldn't ignore.

— Thank you, I already have one — I replied in a low but firm tone, not daring to look at the man. He remained silent for a few more seconds, certainly thinking about what else he could say to strike up a conversation.

— Why are you here, isolated, instead of enjoying the party? — Another question, then. This one sounded a bit too personal for a stranger to ask a woman at a hotel bar. What answer could I give to that?

''I'm just watching the rich folks.''

''Thinking about who I should approach to build a social connection.''

''Trying to figure out which person I should attract enough attention from in this place.''

— A woman like me isn't dazzled by parties; I’m already used to them. I’m waiting for the hotel owner to appear so I can honor his grand opening properly. In the meantime, the bar is the most private spot I could be.

— What makes you think the owner of this place would be interested in your prestige?

His question caught me off guard. For the first time, I wanted to look into his eyes. I turned my face toward him and found myself staring at one of the most handsome men I had ever seen in my life. Of course, his ice-blue eyes had caught my attention from the start, but thanks to the low lighting, I couldn't be sure of his full appearance. However, now that he is by my side, clearer, I can see how strikingly handsome he is. Besides the bold and attractive eyes, the man in front of me had a straight, strong nose, a perfectly defined jawline, well-shaped lips, and thick, strong eyebrows. His hair was dark blond, with a few white strands that didn't hide, revealing that he was certainly past forty.

For a minute, I had no answer. I could tell him that anyone in Rio de Janeiro would value the recognition of Viviane Beltrão. I could say that he was visibly seeking my attention, so it made no sense to question me. I could ask if he was trying to play a bad joke on me. However, all I could think about was how irresistibly attractive this man was. Suddenly, I wished that the gorgeous backless cut was, in fact, a striking front neckline to showcase my décolletage.

— I don't think we've met — I smiled, about to make him understand exactly who I was. — My name is Viviane Beltrão. I own the largest international relations firm in Brazil. Any businessman who closes a deal with me would be signing an agreement for success. These days, it’s not easy to find diplomats like me — I took the last sip of my wine, looking deeply into those eyes, and rested my empty glass on the counter. — That is why, sir, the owner of this hotel might be interested in my prestige.

He kept looking at me as if he were digesting and studying every one of my words. Maybe he was an actor, a lawyer, perhaps a doctor? People who don't own large companies don't usually know my work, and I would forgive him if that were the case. It was fine if that beautiful pair of ice-blue eyes didn't know me; after all, he was giving me the opportunity and the pleasure of introducing myself.

— And you, what is your name? — I asked, interested in finding out if the man was worth my attention and my time. However, before he could answer, a short figure with shoulder-length blonde hair and large blue eyes barged into the space between us.

— We’re starting now — she said, with an iPad in hand and a microphone clipped to her ear. Probably one of the organizers. — Shall we? — She didn’t wait for the man’s answer and hurried ahead, leaving us alone once more.

— I’d like to introduce myself properly, but I must go now. My guests are waiting for me.

I raised an eyebrow.

— Thank you for the introduction, Miss Beltrão. I am interested in doing business with you.

He smiled—a perfectly white, aligned smile capable of shaking the foundations of the strongest woman.

— I am Conrad van Dorn. Thank you for attending my grand opening.

And he left, without giving me time to process the information.