Chereads / The Rise Of Richard Bentley / Chapter 3 - Set Up

Chapter 3 - Set Up

Richard stepped out of the cab, the vehicle's door slamming shut behind him as he took in the sight before him. He stood in front of a massive building, its sleek glass façade gleaming under the afternoon sun, towering at an impressive 360 feet high.

He pulled the card his mother-in-law had given him from his pocket, glancing at the name printed in elegant script. Holding it up to the towering structure, he compared the two, his heart racing with uncertainty.

A wave of relief washed over him when he confirmed it matched the name on the building: BLACK PEARL HOTEL.

For a moment, he stood frozen, contemplating the significance of this place. The hotel was renowned for its opulence and prestige, a far cry from the humiliation he had just faced in the mansion. With a deep breath, he steeled himself, determined to take this unexpected opportunity.

Richard walked towards the entrance, the grand doors sliding open before him as he stepped inside, ready to face whatever awaited him within.

"I still cannot grasp why my mother-in-law would change all of a sudden and link me up with a nice job," Richard thought to himself, still bewildered by Katherine's unexpected generosity.

As he stepped further inside, the sheer opulence of the Black Pearl Hotel overwhelmed him. It was the biggest and most luxurious hotel in Jackson City, its grand lobby adorned with exquisite chandeliers, marble floors, and elegant furnishings that exuded wealth and sophistication.

"Wow, this hotel is massive," he muttered to himself, his eyes wide with wonder. "Getting a job here would be like winning a jackpot. I can't believe this is happening."

Richard took a moment to soak it all in, a flicker of hope igniting within him. "An eight-star hotel indeed. I can't wait to bring Linda here and win her heart over," he thought aloud, imagining the surprise on her face as he treated her to a stay in such a lavish place.

With renewed determination, he approached the reception desk, ready to seize this opportunity and create a new beginning.

"Young man," a voice interrupted Richard as he walked closer to the lobby. He turned to see a massive security guard eyeing him suspiciously. "What are you doing here?"

Richard cleared his throat, trying to maintain his composure despite the guard's imposing presence. "Good day, sir. I'm here to see the director of this hotel."

The security man laughed, his gaze drifting over Richard's attire with obvious disdain. "Really? You've got some nerve."

"Perhaps he's here to beg for money," another security man chimed in, joining the first in sizing Richard up. "How can a dirty pig like him request to see the director?"

"Excuse me, sirs, I'm not a beggar," Richard replied defensively, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks.

"Oh, sure," the first guard scoffed, a smirk playing on his lips. "You don't look like a beggar; you look like a criminal."

The taunt stung, but Richard held his ground. "I'm just trying to—"

The security man cut him off, his tone mocking. "We take great pleasure in beating the hell out of criminals like you, and then handing over your skeleton to the cops."

Richard's heart raced as he sensed the hostility around him. He was on the verge of losing his patience but knew he needed to stay calm if he wanted to get through this situation.

Richard took a deep breath, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the card his mother-in-law had given him. He held it out toward the security officers, trying to project confidence. "This is the card given to me, and I'm sure you know that whoever owns this card must be a shareholder of this hotel."

The security officers exchanged glances, their smiles turning mischievous as they scrutinized the card in Richard's hand.

"I said it," one of them sneered, leaning closer. "You're a criminal. You must have stolen that card from someone because someone as useless as you can never afford to be a shareholder or related to a shareholder of this grand hotel."

Before Richard could respond, the guards moved with alarming speed, grabbing him and pulling his arms behind his back. He felt the cold metal of handcuffs click around his wrists, panic surging through him.

"You guys are making a big mistake! I'm not a criminal!" Richard uttered in frustration, his heart racing as he struggled against their grip.

"Tell it to the cops," the second guard mocked, shoving Richard forward. They confiscated the green card from his hand, leaving him feeling powerless and humiliated.

Richard's mind raced with thoughts of how he could turn this situation around. He needed to find a way to prove his innocence and reach the director before it was too late.

One of the security officers abruptly halted, his walkie-talkie crackling to life. "Hello, what's going on? I can see you from the CCTV camera," the voice of the chief security officer came through.

"We have a suspect in custody, claiming to have an appointment with the director," the guard explained confidently. "We have the situation under control, sir. We've recovered the stolen green card in his possession."

"Green card?" The chief sounded puzzled. His voice grew louder. "Someone with a green card claims he wants to see the director, and you apprehended him? Are you nuts?"

The security officers stiffened in silence, their confidence shaken. "What's the name on the green card?" the chief officer demanded.

The guards exchanged nervous glances, their smug attitudes quickly dissipating. "Uh, the name on the green card is... Catherine Lucas, boss," the junior officer stammered.

There was a brief pause, and then the chief's voice boomed, "Bring him in. The manager wants to see him."

Fear washed over the security officers as they realized the gravity of their mistake. Without a word, they quickly uncuffed Richard, their hands trembling slightly as they handed back the green card. "This way," one muttered, leading him toward the manager's office, the arrogance drained from his voice.

Richard was still furious but kept his composure. He had come here for an opportunity, not to start drama. He focused on his purpose.

"I'm supposed to see the director," Richard said, his voice tense. "Why are you taking me to the manager's office?"

"Shut up!" one guard snapped, unable to resist one last jab. "Poor pigs like you aren't worthy to step into the director's office."

"You're lucky you're even seeing the manager. If it were up to me, you'd be sitting in a prison cell with the rest of the criminals."

Richard gritted his teeth but stayed calm.

"You seem to be passionate about crimes and criminals, officer," Richard said, his tone sharp and cutting. "It definitely means your father must have been a criminal."

The officer's face flushed with rage, his fists clenching at his sides. "How dare you call my father a criminal?" he growled, taking a menacing step toward Richard.

Richard smiled, seeing how easily he could provoke him. "Touched a nerve, did I?"

Before the situation could escalate further, a calm voice interrupted the tense standoff. "Are you Richard Bentley?" The secretary's voice cut through the tension like a knife.

Richard turned toward her and nodded.

"Go straight to your right. That's the manager's office."

Richard shot one last glance at the security officer, whose face was still red with anger, and then walked away toward the manager's office.

"Hey, scumbag! Watch your back. I'm coming for you," the officer spat after him, his voice filled with venom.

Richard ignored the taunt, pushing open the manager's office door and shutting it firmly behind him.

Inside, the atmosphere was cooler, quieter. The manager, a man in his early forties with a composed, unreadable expression, sat behind a large desk. His eyes, sharp and calculating, sized Richard up like a predator sizing up prey.

Richard hesitated for a moment, considering whether he should bring up how the security officers had treated him.

But before he could speak, his eyes caught something strange on the manager's desk—a pack of condoms, lying casually in the middle of the polished surface.

"What's a pack of condoms doing on the manager's table?" Richard thought, his mind momentarily distracted.