Chapter 300

Members of West End were already negotiating with the hotel's security staff at the entrance. However, the guards remained unmoved by West End's reputation and blocked the entrance without hesitation.

Dylan's face darkened, and he stepped forward, ready to force their way in. Andrew quickly stopped him. "Don't make a scene!"

"Mr. Lloyd, if we don't get in now, Finley might slip away," Dylan argued.

Andrew shook his head. "Relax, the effects of cantharides last at least half a day."

Natasha interjected, "This hotel belongs to the Rhodes family, and West End has a good relationship with them. Let me try."

She approached the entrance with a cold expression. "Move aside. I'm Natasha Vostokoff from West End."

The guards exchanged uneasy glances, clearly intimidated. One finally said, "Madam Vostokoff, the hotel is reserved for the night. Mr. Rhodes has ordered that no one is allowed to enter or disturb our special guests."

Natasha raised an eyebrow, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Oh? Who has the clout to book out an entire hotel? I'd love to meet them."

The guard replied firmly, "I'm sorry, Madam Vostokoff, but their identity is confidential. We can't disclose that information."

Natasha's smile vanished. Her tone turned icy. "And what if I decide to go in anyway? Are you going to stop me?"

The guards stiffened and took a collective step back, but remained firm, blocking the entrance.

"Madam Vostokoff, please, there's no need to get angry," a smooth voice broke the tension as Michael strode from the hotel with a calm, confident air. "My apologies, but the hotel is unavailable tonight. We have special guests, and it wouldn't be appropriate to disturb them."

Natasha narrowed her eyes. "Mr. Rhodes, are you telling me that even you won't give me the respect I deserve?"

Michael's smile didn't falter. "Madam Vostokoff, you have my respect, of course. But as I said, this hotel is off-limits tonight. If you'd like, I'll personally cover your stay at any other hotel in Jayrodale. Your choice."

Natasha's voice turned stern. "And what if I insist on staying here tonight?"

Michael's demeanor cooled. "Then I'm afraid I'll have to remove you by force."

Natasha's patience snapped. "Everyone, let's break in!"

Michael clapped his hands twice, and within seconds, dozens of men poured from the hotel, forming a line of enforcers.

Natasha was unfazed. She smirked and prepared to charge. "Mr. Rhodes, do you really think this bunch of nobodies can stop me?"

Before things escalated, Andrew stepped forward, gently pulling Natasha back. He flashed a knowing smile at Michael. "Mr. Rhodes, I didn't realize you'd taken up such a prestigious job as a…concierge."

Michael's expression darkened. "Andrew, watch your mouth. When did I ever become a concierge?"

Andrew chuckled. "Well, when you're standing guard for a couple sneaking around, it's hard to call it anything else. If you're not a concierge, then what are you?"

Michael's face twisted in anger. He hadn't expected Andrew to know about Finley's antics in his hotel. Still, he kept his composure, sneering. "I have no idea what you're talking about. This is my family's hotel, and I suggest you leave before you cause more trouble."

Andrew's smirk didn't waver. "Come on! Don't play dumb. Everyone knows Finley's here with Mr. Giordano's…companion, doing things they probably don't want us to know about."

Michael exploded. "Andrew, get out of here right now! Or else don't blame me if my men don't hold back!"

Natasha stepped forward, her voice like ice. "If your men even think about laying a hand on Andrew, they'll regret it."

Michael seethed with rage. Even Natasha, a figure he had always respected, was defending Andrew. He couldn't help but wonder what kind of spell this freeloader had cast—to make these powerful women so fiercely loyal to him.