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Chapter 2: The Battle in the Lobby

The grand marble lobby of the Wellington Grand was usually a sanctuary of quiet luxury, but tonight it was a stage for a volatile drama. Three police officers stood near the front desk, looking uncomfortable under the sharp gaze of the hotel's high-end security. Beside them stood Marcus Silva—a tall, heavily built man with a harsh jawline and an aura of volatile arrogance.

"I know she’s here!" Marcus shouted, banging his fist on the mahogany desk. "She’s a maid here! She’s keeping my kids in some filthy utility closet because she got kicked out of her apartment! I have a right to my children!"

"Mr. Silva, please lower your voice," the hotel manager pleaded, looking desperately toward the executive elevator.

Ding.

The gold-plated doors slid open, and Logan Martin stepped out. He didn't wear a coat, just his tailored charcoal trousers and a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. The sheer gravity of his presence caused the entire lobby to go dead silent. The officers immediately straightened their postures; they knew exactly who owned the hotel, the block, and half the district.

"Is there a problem in my lobby, officers?" Logan asked, his voice smooth, carrying an undercurrent of absolute authority.

The lead officer stepped forward. "Mr. Martin. We received a domestic disturbance and child welfare complaint regarding an employee, Anna Silva. The father here claims the children are in danger."

Marcus sneered, stepping up beside the officer. "You must be the boss. Look, man, my ex-wife is hiding my kids in this hotel. She’s homeless. She’s crazy. Just turn her over so we can end this."

Logan didn't even look at Marcus. He kept his eyes locked on the police officer. "The complaint is fraudulent. Mrs. Silva and her children are not in danger, nor are they in a utility closet. They are currently guests in my personal, private suite on the forty-seventh floor."

Marcus’s jaw dropped. "What? That's a lie! She's a maid! Why would she be in your suite?"

"Because I hired her for a private, specialized assignment," Logan lied smoothly, his eyes flashing with a dangerous light. "And as her employer and the owner of this establishment, I can assure you that her children are sleeping in a five-thousand-dollar-a-night bed, eating gourmet meals, and are entirely safe. Furthermore, my legal counsel is standing right behind you."

As if on cue, two sharply dressed corporate attorneys carried leather briefcases into the lobby.

"Officers," the lead attorney announced, handing over a thick manila folder. "This is the certified custody agreement from the New York Family Court issued six months ago. Marcus Silva has zero legal custody rights and a standing restraining order protecting Anna Silva in the state of New Jersey, which we are currently filing to mirror in New York. His presence here constitutes stalking and harassment."

The officers reviewed the papers, their expressions turning stern as they looked at Marcus. "Mr. Silva, you told us you had joint legal rights."

"She’s a vagrant! She has no home!" Marcus yelled, his face turning purple with rage. He took a aggressive step toward Logan. "You think you can just buy her out? You think you can keep my kids from me because you have money?"

Before Marcus could even finish his sentence, Logan’s personal bodyguards pinned him against the marble pillar, twisting his arms behind his back.

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"Mr. Silva," Logan said, finally looking at him, his voice dropping to a whisper that felt colder than ice. "You are broke, violent, and stupid. You came into my house to terrorize a woman who works herself to the bone to protect her children. If you ever come within a mile of this hotel, or Anna Silva, I will spend an insignificant fraction of my net worth to ensure you spend the next ten years in a maximum-security cell. Officers, remove this man for violating a restraining order and filing a false police report."

The police wasted no time handcuffing a screaming, cursing Marcus and dragging him out into the rain. Logan turned to his manager. "Clean the lobby. And change the access codes to the executive elevators immediately."

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