LUSTING TO HAVE HER WAY

ROOM 27

CHAPTER 2

ROOM 27

The words hung between them — You need to quit this job even before you start it.

Angela didn't step back. She stayed too close, eyes locked on his, waiting to see if he understood what staying in James' house and working for him would cost her.

"Did you tell the police?" she asked calmly.

"No."

"Are they looking for me?"

"I don't know."

Angela narrowed her eyes.

"You're not being honest with me."

Bismarck remained silent.

Angela looked at him for a moment before speaking again.

"But one thing I know for sure is that I spoke with him barely an hour after I left that room."

Silence.

Bismarck's face remained unreadable.

The memory of that morning at Black Corks Hotel returned with uncomfortable clarity. The brief exchange, the woman's calm manner, and the fact that she had walked away from Room 27 shortly before the discovery of Dozie's body had remained in his thoughts ever since.

Now, the same woman was standing before him.

Then she spoke again.

"How much were you promised to hand me over? How much did the police—or Dozie's family—promise you?"

Bismarck shook his head.

"I wasn't promised anything by anyone."

He paused briefly.

"I'm equally surprised to see you here. I only came to work for Mr James."

Angela let out a faint laugh.

"Well said."

She studied his face for another moment, as though trying to determine whether he was telling the truth.

Bismarck did not look away.

There was no anger in his expression, but neither was there any sign that he intended to reassure her.

Angela finally looked away.

She stood up.

"James was Dozie's business associate, so I'm not surprised that you somehow found your way here."

Without another word, she turned and walked into the bedroom.

A few seconds later, Bismarck heard the soft click of the door locking.

He remained in the sitting room for a moment.

His eyes settled on the closed bedroom door.

The encounter had left him with more questions than answers.

Why was Angela so concerned about what he had told the police?

Why did she immediately assume that someone had sent him to expose her?

And, most importantly, what exactly had happened in Room 27?

Bismarck slowly turned away from the door.

The events at Black Corks Hotel had already been disturbing enough.

He had not expected to encounter the same woman again, especially in the house where he had just started a new job.

Two Weeks Earlier...

A newly employed room steward resigned from Black Corks Hotel and Club after an attempt was made to kidnap him.

The incident occurred less than twenty-four hours after something unprecedented happened in his department.

The events of that day would later become one of the strangest experiences of Bismarck's life.

He had gone to work expecting an ordinary shift.

Instead, before the day was over, he would find himself at the centre of a mystery involving a dead guest, a mysterious woman, and a room that would remain in his memory long after he left the hotel.

At exactly 12:30 p.m., the guest occupying Room 27 had overstayed his booking by thirty minutes.

The receptionist picked up the intercom.

"Good afternoon, sir. Your booking expired thirty minutes ago. Would you like to extend your stay?"

No response.

She tried again.

Still nothing.

Finally, she called the room steward.

"Please go to Room 27 and remind the guest that he needs to check out if he doesn't wish to extend his stay."

The steward proceeded to the room and knocked several times.

No answer.

He returned and informed the manager.

Concerned, the manager tried calling the guest's personal number.

Still no response.

He immediately contacted the police.

When the officers arrived, they forced the door open.

The room was unusually quiet.

The guest lay motionless on the bed.

One glance was enough.

He was dead.

For several seconds, nobody spoke.

The steward stood near the doorway, staring at the lifeless body.

Although he had never met the guest before that day, the sight unsettled him deeply. He had entered the room expecting to find an irritated customer refusing to answer the door.

Instead, he had witnessed the beginning of a case that would eventually follow him far beyond the hotel.

The police immediately began questioning the hotel staff.

"Was he alone?"

The steward shook his head.

"No, sir. A woman spent the night with him, but she left very early this morning."

"Did you see her leave?"

"Yes, sir. Around five o'clock."

"Had you seen her before?"

"No. It was my first day at work."

The police confirmed his statement with the manager.

"Could you recognize her if you saw her again?"

Bismarck hesitated.

"I'm not sure."

Immediately, the brief encounter replayed itself in his mind.

He remembered the way she had appeared that morning—calm, composed, and completely unhurried.

There had been nothing about her behaviour to suggest that she was leaving a room that would soon become the centre of a police investigation.

At the time, Bismarck had thought nothing of the encounter.

Now, every small detail seemed significant.

As their eyes met that morning, he had casually asked:

"Are you leaving?"

"Yes."

"Is your man leaving too?"

"No."

And she had simply walked away.

Since it was his first day on the job, he knew very little about the hotel's operations.

Even so, he found it difficult to believe that the woman was one of the hotel's commercial s*x workers.

She had looked too elegant.

Too sophisticated.

Too gentle.

There was something about her that had made him instinctively assume she belonged to a different world.

She had carried herself with an unusual confidence, and even in that brief encounter, there had been a certain dignity in her manner.

He had no reason to know that the woman would later become connected to one of the most important chapters of his life.

The police examined the registration records.

The deceased had checked in under the name:

Dozie B. T.

A few steps away from Room 27, the lead inspector suddenly stopped.

"One more thing."

The other officers turned toward him.

Instead of addressing them, he looked at the manager.

"Come with me to your office."

Ten minutes later, the inspector emerged carrying a flat twenty-one-inch carton.

He carefully inserted a device into it before handing it over to a junior officer.

"Handle this carefully."

The officers sealed off Room 27.

Outside, the hotel continued with its normal activities, completely unaware that the mystery had only just begun.

Behind the sealed door, unanswered questions remained.

Who was the woman?

What had happened between her and Dozie?

And why had she left the hotel so calmly just hours before his death?

At the time, Bismarck had no answers.

He only knew that something about the entire incident felt deeply wrong.

That was two weeks earlier.

Bismarck was no longer a room steward at Black Corks Hotel and Club.

He had since left the hotel and taken up his new position as James Odogwu's personal assistant.

But the events of that morning had remained in his thoughts.

Now, after unexpectedly seeing the woman again, the unanswered questions had returned.

He found himself replaying the brief encounter in his mind.

At the hotel, she had been nothing more than a woman leaving a room.

Now she was Angela, James Odogwu's fiancée.

That fact alone was difficult enough to process.

But the timing of her appearance in James' house made the situation even more disturbing.

Bismarck stopped near the entrance to the sitting room and looked back towards the bedroom where Angela had disappeared.

He still did not know what had happened inside Room 27.

He did not know why Angela was there that morning.

And he certainly did not know why she seemed so concerned about what he might have told the police.

But one thing had become clear.

The mystery surrounding Room 27 had followed him to his new place of work.

And now, whether he wanted it or not, Angela was part of it.

What was the woman who had walked out of Room 27 after leaving a dead man behind doing in the house of Mr James Odogwu?