Chapter 93 A Game
Zachary yanked back the covers and shoved Quinley underneath in one swift motion. She was so small that he managed to hide her completely, tucking the blankets around her just as Alicia swept into the room behind the hotel staff member.
"Zach, what are you doing here?" Alicia's surprise was perfectly performed, all wide eyes and innocent confusion.
"Shouldn't I be?" His voice could have frozen hell over.
"Of course you can be here! I just didn't expect you to be staying in a hotel... alone." She fumbled for conversation while her eyes darted around the room.
Zachary positioned himself strategically, his body blocking any view of the suspicious lump under the covers. "What are you doing here?"
"Looking for Ms. Elikin. She called me last night, said she needed to talk, so I came here. I had no idea you'd be here too." Alicia pulled out her phone, scrolling to show him the alleged message.
Zachary's expression darkened further. He turned to the uncomfortable-looking hotel employee hovering by the door. "Check who registered this room."
The staff member's fingers flew over his tablet. "Room 3201 was registered by a Mr. Jennings, sir."
"That's impossible." Alicia's denial came too quickly.
She'd orchestrated everything perfectly—had Quinley drugged and brought here, used her unconscious fingerprint to unlock her phone, sent messages to both Zachary and herself. She'd even stationed people in the lobby all night to confirm neither had left. This morning's ambush was supposed to catch them red-handed.
"What's impossible?" Zachary's stare could have cut glass.
"Get out." The command left no room for argument.
But Alicia didn't budge. Something about his defensive posture convinced her she was close to her prize. "Zach, I think there's been a misunderstanding. Can we talk?"
As she spoke, her gaze swept every corner of the room. Then she saw it—the covers shifted slightly, as if someone was breathing underneath.
Her eyes lit up with triumph.
She lunged toward the bed, hands outstretched, but Zachary's imposing frame suddenly blocked her path.
"I said leave." He backed her against the wall with deliberate steps.
"Zach, I have so much I want to tell you." Alicia tried to slip around him, but his hand clamped down on her wrist.
She winced, tears springing to her eyes with practiced ease. Her delicate features crumpled beautifully—the picture of wounded innocence.
Hidden under the suffocating covers, Quinley barely dared to breathe. The air was growing thin, and claustrophobia clawed at her chest. While Alicia and Zachary were locked in their standoff, she carefully extracted herself and shoved a pillow into her place under the blankets.
The wardrobe by the nightstand stood half-open—perfect camouflage. Quinley's petite frame slipped inside easily, and she deliberately left the door ajar to avoid suspicion.
"Alicia, what are you doing here?"
Harold's voice boomed from the doorway. The Davis siblings descending on a hotel at dawn—what a delightful coincidence.
"Mr. Jennings, you're here too?" Harold's gaze fixed on Zachary's grip around his sister's wrist, and a cold smile spread across his weathered features. "Having fun, are we?"
"Harold, we were just playing around!" Alicia immediately melted against Zachary's side, her curves pressing into him with calculated intimacy.
Harold's smile turned predatory. "Mr. Jennings, Alicia is my only baby sister. I trust you'll take good care of her."
Without waiting for permission, he brushed past them toward the bathroom. "Mind if I use your facilities?"
Zachary released Alicia's wrist and glanced back at the bed, his tense shoulders relaxing slightly when he saw the convincing pillow-shaped lump.
Harold emerged from the bathroom but didn't leave. Instead, he made himself at home, wandering deeper into the room with the confidence of someone who belonged there.
"Such refined taste, Mr. Jennings! Abandoning your mansion for a hotel room—how romantic." His eyes scanned every surface like a surveillance camera.
Then his attention fixed on the bed.
The pillow Quinley had hastily stuffed under the covers created a distinctly human-shaped bulge.
"Oh, looks like someone's still in bed. Let's see who it is, shall we?"
Harold reached for the covers with theatrical flair. Alicia held her breath, eyes wide with anticipation.
The blanket flew back to reveal... nothing but a lonely pillow lying sideways across the mattress.
"That's impossible. There was definitely someone here before." Alicia's composure cracked completely.
She dove at the bed, tearing through the bedding, even dropping to her knees to peer under the frame. Zachary watched her frantic search with arctic detachment.
Harold cleared his throat awkwardly. "Mr. Jennings, don't mind us. Just having a little fun."
"I do mind." Zachary's tone could have stripped paint.
Alicia continued her manic hunt, checking behind curtains and in every corner. A living person couldn't just vanish—could they?
Harold's embarrassment was palpable as he grabbed his sister's wrist. "Enough. Haven't you humiliated yourself sufficiently?"
"She's here somewhere, Harold. I know it." Alicia's certainty bordered on delusional.
Harold had had enough of her theatrics. He yanked her toward the door, but Zachary's voice stopped him cold.
"Mr. Davis, stop scheming against me. Whether I remain CEO of Apex Global Group or not, you'll never get what you're after."
The threat hung in the air like poison gas.
Harold's jaw tightened. "We'll see about that."
He stalked out with Alicia scrambling behind him, her grand plan in ruins.
"Coast is clear." Zachary locked the door and called softly.
Quinley emerged from the wardrobe, brushing off imaginary dust. Sometimes the most obvious hiding place was the safest—neither Harold nor Alicia had thought to check the half-open closet right in front of them.
"Harold's targeting Apex Global Group?" The pieces were clicking into place, but Quinley needed confirmation.
"Today's little performance was designed to give them leverage against me. Catch me in a compromising position, then use it to make their move on the company." Zachary's explanation was matter-of-fact, as if corporate espionage was just another Tuesday.
"You have compromising positions?" Quinley's smile was pure mischief.
She understood the game perfectly now. The Davis siblings had tried to turn her into ammunition against Zachary—catch him with his supposed mistress, then force him to choose between protecting her or protecting his position.
Zachary reached out and tapped her forehead gently. "You are my compromising position. Didn't you know?"
"Then just get rid of me. Problem solved." Her tone was light, but something flickered in her eyes.
He was already reaching for his clothes, but he paused to look at her with an intensity that made her pulse skip. "Never."
Alicia and Harold's little drama had failed spectacularly, but they wouldn't give up this easily.
"So how are you planning to punish them?" Quinley asked with studied casualness.
"Guess."
Zachary picked up his phone and dialed Lucas's number. Whatever he was about to set in motion, Quinley had a feeling it would be decisive.
She hadn't expected him to make such a bold move.