Suite Seductions

Maya Richards pulled at the hem of her tailored black skirt, trying to ignore the way it hugged her ass a little too tightly for a first day on the job. The Regency Palace Hotel in Mayfair wasn't just a hotel; it was an institution, a playground for the rich and famous. She had worked her ass off literally and figuratively to get here. From pouring cheap wine in South London pubs to greeting influencers at mid-range boutiques, this was the crown jewel on her CV.

She glanced around the opulent marble lobby, where a Swarovski chandelier the size of a car sparkled overhead. Everything about this place screamed exclusivity. From the bellboys dressed in bespoke suits to the floral arrangements that smelled like money, it was clear that The Regency wasn't just a hotel, it was a lifestyle. And now, she was part of it.

Behind the concierge desk, Victoria Harrington, the hotel director, stood like a queen surveying her kingdom. With her sleek blonde bob, sharp Louboutins, and a blazer that could probably pay a month's rent, Victoria was the epitome of polished power.

"You're late," Victoria said without looking up from her tablet. Her voice was clipped, and her English accent had a sharp edge that could slice through glass.

Maya glanced at the clock. It was 8:59. She swallowed her retort. "My apologies, Ms. Harrington."

Victoria's icy blue eyes finally landed on her, scanning her from head to toe. "You'll address me as Victoria. But don't mistake familiarity for leniency. At The Regency, perfection isn't a goal; it's a requirement."

Maya nodded, her pulse quickening. "Understood."

"Good." Victoria's gaze flicked to a tablet on the desk. "You'll be shadowing me today. The Regency clientele demand discretion and efficiency, two things I expect you to master immediately. This is not the kind of place where we ask how high when they say jump. We anticipate the jump before they even speak."

Maya nodded again, but before she could respond, the sound of heels clacking on marble echoed through the lobby. Lila Moreno, the Brazilian influencer currently staying in the hotel's executive suite, sashayed in like a walking Instagram story. Clad in a skin-tight white dress that showed off her perfect curves, she exuded confidence. Her honey-blonde waves cascaded over her shoulders, and her caramel skin glowed under the chandelier light.

"Victoria, darling!" Lila's voice was sugary sweet, her Brazilian accent wrapping around the words like silk.

Victoria's smile was sharp and fake. "Miss Moreno, always a pleasure."

"Of course it is," Lila said, her perfectly glossed lips curling into a smirk. Her eyes flicked to Maya. "And who's this?"

"Maya Richards, our new concierge," Victoria said briskly.

Maya extended her hand, but Lila simply looked her up and down with an appraising eye. "Cute," she said dismissively. "But do you know how to keep a secret?"

Maya blinked, caught off guard. "I—"

"Good." Lila didn't wait for her response. "Send up a bottle of Dom Perignon to my suite. And tell your sommelier to chill it properly this time. The last one was lukewarm, and I don't drink piss."

Victoria gave a tight smile. "Of course, Miss Moreno. Consider it handled."

Maya bit her tongue, but she could feel the heat rising to her cheeks. The arrogance, the entitlement, it was everything she hated.

As Lila strutted toward the elevators, Victoria leaned in. "Rule number one: You never challenge the guests. No matter how ridiculous the request."

Maya nodded, though she was already mentally imagining slapping Lila across the face with her lukewarm champagne bottle.