Chapter 154
He pulled it free. A violin bow — the horsehair snapped clean, but the wood intact. It looked expensive.
He glanced around. The corridor was empty.
He shrugged and slipped it into his pocket. Maybe it was worth something on eBay.
Morning arrived with the shrill ring of telephones.
Jocelyn sat at her desk staring at the tablet Liam had just thrust into her hands. Her head was pounding in rhythm with the chaos outside.
“You need to see this,” Liam said, his face pale.
On the screen, Good Morning America was live. Aspen Schneider sat on the beige studio sofa, looking like a porcelain doll that had been delicately broken. She pressed a tissue beneath her eyes with practiced precision.
“I just wanted to bring music to the city,” Aspen sobbed, her voice trembling at exactly the right frequency. “Zack is a genius. And now… poor Zack is broken. The Wolfe Hotel — I warned them. It’s simply not safe.”
The host nodded with practiced sympathy. “It must be devastating, Aspen.”
“It is,” Aspen sniffled. “I feel so guilty for recommending that place. I just hope Jocelyn can address her security issues before someone gets truly hurt.”
𝖱еа𝘥 𝗐𝘪𝘵𝘩𝗼𝘂t in𝗍𝗲𝗋𝗿𝗎𝘱t𝗂𝘰𝘯s 𝗼𝘯 𝗴а𝗅ոo𝗏e𝗹𝗌.𝖼𝘰𝗺
Jocelyn felt a vein throb at her temple. “She’s weaponizing tears,” she muttered. “She’s literally crying on national television about a violin she probably stole herself.”
Liam swiped the screen. “Look at Twitter.”
The hashtag #BoycottWolfe was trending at number one.
“Cancellations are at forty percent for next month,” Liam reported. “Two corporate retreats just pulled out. The insurance company sent a notice of review.”
Jocelyn stood and began to pace. “We need a statement. Draft it: ‘We are cooperating fully with the NYPD and believe this to be a case of deliberate foul play.’”
“Foul play?” Liam said carefully. “That sounds defensive. The PR team recommends we apologize and offer a reward.”
“No apologies,” Jocelyn said. “We didn’t lose it — it was taken. The moment we apologize, we admit negligence. We stick to the facts.”
In his corner office at Douglas Corp, Kieran was watching the same broadcast.
He grabbed his phone and dialed Jocelyn. It rang through to voicemail. He called again. Voicemail.
“Dammit, Jocelyn,” he muttered, reaching for his coat. “I’m going over there.”
Back at the hotel, the atmosphere was somber. Staff moved quietly, gathering in corners to whisper. Morale had cratered overnight.
Jocelyn assembled the department heads in the lobby.
“Listen to me,” she said, her voice carrying clearly through the space. “I know what the news is saying. But we know the truth. This hotel is secure. We are being targeted. If you want to leave, you may do so now — I won’t hold it against anyone. But if you stay, we fight.”
Silence fell. Then the Duty Manager — a woman who had worked at the Wolfe Hotel for twenty years — stepped forward.
“We stay, Ms. Wolfe,” she said.
A murmur of agreement moved through the group. Jocelyn felt a tight, unwelcome lump rise in her throat.
A sudden crash shattered the moment.
.