The morning light filtered through the hotel room, casting a soft glow over the luxurious interior. The man stretched, sitting up in bed with the usual self-assuredness that came from knowing he owned the world—or at least most of it. As he swung his legs over the side of the bed, his gaze caught something unusual: a travel bag leaning against the armchair, a pair of shoes, and a woman's coat draped carelessly nearby. He frowned, the events of the night flickering back into his mind.
The woman. Her.
With an indifferent sigh, he glanced toward the balcony door, vaguely remembering the flash of irritation that had led him to lock it. He didn't really care if she was still out there, but the shadow of human decency made him move toward the glass. Peering through the window, he spotted her, curled up on the cold floor, unmoving.
After a brief hesitation, he opened the door and stepped onto the balcony. She lay motionless, her skin pale and her breaths shallow. He bent down, pressing two fingers to her neck, feeling a weak but steady pulse. Her skin was like ice, her body temperature worryingly low. With a slight twitch of annoyance, he straightened and strode back into the room, picking up his phone to call his assistant.
"Get up here now," he commanded tersely. "There's a situation."
Within minutes, his assistant appeared, his face a mix of professionalism and confusion as he assessed the scene. Gently, he lifted Zara from the ground, his brows furrowing as he felt her chill.
"Should I take her to the hospital, sir?" the assistant asked, looking back at his employer.
"Do whatever you need to." The man waved dismissively, barely sparing a second glance at Zara's unconscious form. "She's just another girl trying too hard to get attention," he muttered, more to himself than to anyone in particular.
The assistant carefully carried Zara out of the room. Just before leaving, he turned back, hesitating as if he had something to say. "Sir," he began, "you might want to know who she—"
"Not interested." His tone was curt, final. "Just handle it."
As the door shut behind them, the man returned to his morning routine, pushing Zara and the night's inconvenience out of his mind. To him, she was just a complication, a nuisance to be dealt with and forgotten. After all, he didn't have time for people who were beneath his notice.