9

6 0 0
                                    

Chapter 9

The black cab arrived at the entrance of the extravagant Crown Plaza hotel located a few miles away from the offices of Winchester Bank. Peter Michaels stepped out, still looking aggrieved and plumped a few notes in to the hands of the driver. He didn’t wait for the change and stormed straight through the revolving doors. The driver looked at him curiously but didn’t bother to probe, considering the small fortune enclosed in his fist.

As he walked in to the vast, lushly decorated lobby, Peter lowered his gaze to avoid making conversation with the staff and went straight in to the lifts.

The doors opened to the 8th floor and he marched aggressively to the door of his room. He put his hand in to the pocket of his pinstripe suit and reached to get the key card. As he probed around he felt nothing but air and the fabric lining his pocket.

“Mother fucker” Peter yelled as he kicked the door repeatedly in frustration.

An eastern European woman standing down the hallway, watched as he chipped some of the varnish of the thick brown door. She paused for a moment and then walked towards him.

A thick Russian accent greeted him, “Is there a problem, sir?”

“I can’t find my fucking key. Mother fucking pile of shit” Peter shouted aggressively while punching the door with his fist.

“Are you sure you looked everywhere sir? If not, we can provide you with replacement key downstairs”

“Do I look like a fuckin...” Peter paused as he felt a pinch on his left buttock. Peter’s white face turned a uniform shade of red.

“Have a nice day sir. We shall send bill to room for damage”. The hotel employee said without emotion, as she turned and walked away.

                                                               

Peter entered his room, slammed the door behind him and laid straight down on to his luxuriously, fluffed king sized bed.

Peter stared in to the ceiling of the room that was illuminated by a large, circular light. He noticed blotches of paint that had begun to peel off the white ceiling and some cracks in the wall by the window.

“Some 5 star hotel” Peter grunted to himself.

Peter closed his eyes and his world went black. 

The CorporationWhere stories live. Discover now