The next day, 6:30 in the morning.
In a villa, the windows upstairs were wide open, and sunlight streamed through them onto the floor.
A man dressed in casual clothes sat in his study, with an iced coffee on the table.
He opened his black laptop, his long, distinct knuckles tapping gently on the keyboard.
High-quality keys made little noise when struck.
A hotel management page appeared on the computer screen, and he quickly spotted one particular name amongst all the guests.
Blake Fuller looked at "Caroline Edwin," his throat muscles shifting under his sensually dark gaze.
He picked up the mouse and scrolled down, noticing a remark written by the hotel staff in the last column.
Last night around 2:30 am, there was a widespread power outage at the hotel, and the surveillance on the 17th floor was also broken. The cause of the malfunction was unknown, but it was repaired around 4 am.
