"Wow! It really is morning already. Due to the exhaustive day behind me, I must have slept soundly last night." Dion's mutter was barely audible.
"I should hurry up, take a shower, have breakfast, and wait for Ivory to pick me up," Dion said to himself.
30 minutes later, Dion had finished showering, dressed neatly in slightly faded blue trousers, wearing the provided footwear in the room that wasn't shoes.
Confidently, he strolled into the elevator available right outside his room. There's a special lift for V.I.P. guests, separated from the regular guests' elevator.
Upon entering, Dion swiftly pressed the button for the ground floor. Moments later, he reached his destination.
At the ground floor, Dion attempted to locate the hotel restaurant he intended to visit, his eyes searching all around.
"Ah, why don't I just ask one of the hotel employees?" he internally rebuked his own foolishness.
"Excuse me!" he said upon passing a female employee at the hotel, but she wasn't wearing a name tag.
"Yes! How may I assist you, sir?" the employee asked politely.
"I'm trying to find the hotel restaurant. Could you tell me where it is?" Dion asked, clearly clueless, using formal language.
"May I know what kind of room you're staying in?" the employee inquired, not yet answering Dion's initial question.
"As it happens, I'm staying in the Presidential suite, the one on the topmost floor."
"What! The Presidential suite?" the employee exclaimed, her eyes scanning Dion skeptically as she internally reflected.
"Could this simply dressed man really be staying in the most expensive room? That seems unlikely," she doubted silently.
"Miss, are you unable to inform me of the restaurant's location?"
The female employee didn't respond immediately, instead, she seemed to scrutinize Dion's identity.
"Just a moment, sir. I will check with the reception desk for confirmation."
"Why is that necessary?" Dion asked, displeased.
"Could you please wait here, sir. May I know your name?" the employee asked.
"Dion, Presidential suite, the top floor," he replied confidently.
"And whom am I speaking to?" Dion asked politely.
"Tantri. You may refer to me by that name," she replied, walking away.
"Ugh, there's always a problem. Should I change my simple wardrobe to avoid these doubts about who I am?" Dion pondered inwardly.
"This situation is truly giving me a headache," he grumbled in annoyance.
"Hey..hey..hey..! What are you doing here? Begging?" a voice suddenly jeered from behind Dion.
Dion, startled, turned to face the source.
"Why do you persist in bothering me, Brian? Yesterday at the car showroom, now here at the hotel. What do you really want?" Dion retorted, visibly upset.
"What do I want? Take a look at yourself, Dion! What are you? A penniless loser."
"Jasmine and I are getting married soon. It's a good thing she dumped you," Brian provoked incessantly.
Ignoring Brian's continuous pestering, Dion chose to walk away and seek out the restaurant he had been looking for.
"And you, Brian, shall be the target of my power. I will make sure you and your family become destitute for bothering me," Dion vowed silently with a vengeful heart.
"Hey.. hey.. hey..! Where are you going? I'm talking to you!" Brian called out, offended by Dion's disregard.
But Dion kept walking, unmindful of Brian's shouts.
Onlookers glanced between Dion and Brian, puzzled over their confrontation.
With everyone's curious eyes upon him, Brian grew irate and shouted loudly, "None of your business! Leave!" dismissing the bystanders who muttered their displeasure, yet none dared to confront the arrogant man.
Meanwhile, Dion continued his search for the elusive restaurant, moving through the various spaces of the vast hotel.
"This hotel is just too large; I cannot seem to find the restaurant," Dion complained wearily.
As 8 o'clock struck, his search remained futile.
Back with the hotel staff Dion had encountered earlier, Tantri, and a familiar woman, Sherly, were frenetically looking for him, their faces ghostly pale.
Tantri had confirmed from Sherly herself that Dion truly was the occupant of the Presidential suite at the top floor.
Continuing their search for Dion without luck, General Manager William arrived, questioning their panicked appearance.
"What has you so worried? What's the issue now?"
"Apologies, sir, it was my oversight, letting Mr. Dion search for the restaurant alone. He simply wanted to get his breakfast," Sherly stammered, fearful of being fired for another mistake.
"What? How could this happen? Shouldn't a guest of the Presidential suite receive their service in their room? Isn't everything supposed to be prepared in his suite?" William probed, his anger rising.
"I was unaware, sir. Information from Tantri indicated Mr. Dion went to find a place for breakfast by himself," Sherly answered nervously.
"Immediately summon the restaurant manager to my office. Now!"
Internally, the hotel's general manager fumed, "What fresh problem is this? Ugh, such incompetence. Perhaps I should just fire them."
Shortly after, a tense restaurant manager and executive chef hurried to William's presence.
"What's the meaning of this negligence? Why did you allow a valued guest to fetch his necessities?" William demanded, seething.
"We weren't negligent, sir. The Presidential suite's breakfast was delivered by a team of seven servers."
"But finding no one in the suite, they left the food laid out on the dining table," the head of the restaurant defended.
"Find him immediately! If you don't, you're both fired!" William bellowed.
With the threat and screaming echoing in their ears, the two raced off in a panic.
"Such an inconvenience," they thought in unison.
Unfamiliar with Dion's appearance, their search was like looking for a faceless name.
Caught up in their panic, they accidentally bumped into someone, startling him backward.
"Can't you see? Be careful where you're walking," spat the restaurant manager, mixing annoyance with aggression.
"Aren't you the ones who ran into me? I've been standing right here, still as a statue. You're the ones who rushed by without looking," Dion replied.
"Enough of your mouth!" the manager snapped, shoving Dion aside, refusing to admit any wrongdoing.
Just then, Sherly and Tantri arrived, panting with bloodless faces.
"Stop! What are you doing to him?"
"You're nobody to speak to me anymore, Sherly. You're unworthy," they scoffed at her.
“Fine! When you know who he is, will you still dare to be dismissive in front of him?”
"And who is this person supposed to be?" they asked, still belittling Dion.
"Mr. Dion, resident of the Presidential suite for a week, paying a cash rent of 1.75 billion," Sherly declared, trembling with contained fury.
Crash!
It was as if the heavens had collapsed onto them. They staggered and fell to their knees before Dion, pleading for forgiveness.
"Si...sir, please forgive our mistake. We truly didn't recognize who you are."
Dion ignored their apologies, his thoughts consumed by the need for the hotel and its staff to face a thorough evaluation.
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