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BOOKING THE IMPOSSIBLE
last update2024-09-29 01:15:14

The young woman’s eyes widened in shock. “What the hell, you must be kidding me!” she shouted, drawing more attention.

“Come on, run the card in the machine again,” the young lady demanded, with a voice that was tight with irritation.

The receptionist took the card and swiped it again, but the screen displayed the same message: “PAYMENT DECLINED.”

The young woman’s face turned red with frustration. “This is ridiculous!” she exclaimed. “Wait, sir, let me call my banker. I’m not having this.” She pulled out her phone, furiously tapping at the screen to make the call.

“Please, madam, kindly step aside so I can attend to the next person,” the receptionist said politely but firmly.

She turned to look at Marvin with a sneer, then huffed and stepped aside, holding her phone to her ear.

The receptionist turned to Marvin. “Hello, sir, and welcome to Aurora Grand Hotel,” he greeted with a somewhat tired expression. “Are you here to book a reservation?”

“Yeah, of course,” Marvin replied, still f
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  • THREE BILLION REASONS TO WALK AWAY

    Carl Bowen stood still, his phone pressed to his ear. The room was silent, save for the faint hum of the air conditioner. Across from him, Farouq Khyber remained seated, his eyes were fixed on Carl, a mixture of confusion and suspicion was etched on his face. On the other end of the line, Carla Bowen's voice trembled with disbelief. “Carl… Carl, oh my God! It’s there! Three billion! Carl, what’s happening? Where did this come from?”Carl closed his eyes briefly, the weight of the moment was pressing down on him. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. “It’s our lifeline,” he said softly. “It’s our way out.”Farouq Khyber's eyes widened. He slowly rose from his chair, his mouth opening slightly as if to speak, but no words came out. He looked at Carl, then at the phone, then back at Carl, his face was a mask of shock and disbelief. Carl turned slightly away from Farouq, focusing on his sister. “Carla, listen to me carefully. This money changes everything. We’re no longer at the m

  • THE CRACK IN THE SCRIPT

    Carl Bowen held the phone to his ear, his heart was pounding in his chest.There was a pause on the other end. Just the sound of static.Then came the voice. Low. Calm. Cold.“Carl Bowen… I hope everything is good and going according to plan?”Carl glanced quickly at Farouq, who was still seated, arms folded, watching him like a hawk. The Khyber tycoon raised an eyebrow, confused but silent.Carl turned slightly away, gripping the phone tighter.“Yes, sir,” Carl said into the phone, with a voice that was more steady now. “Everything is going according to plan. We’re getting close to the last piece.”Farouq blinked.His head tilted slightly. A flicker of confusion danced across his face.Last piece? he thought.What is this Bowen man talking about?Farouq’s eyes narrowed. This wasn’t part of any script. Carl wasn’t supposed to be this calm. He wasn’t supposed to have a “plan.”He was supposed to be desperate.He was supposed to be cornered.But instead, Carl was standing there, phone

  • THE CLOCK AND THE KNIFE

    Farouq Khyber glanced at the heavy gold watch on his wrist. The ticking was soft but clear in the silent room. He looked up at Carl Bowen, who was still standing—face pale, eyes sharp, mind racing.“You should not take too long,” Farouq said quietly. “Time is not your friend right now.”Carl turned to him slowly, the weight of his breath was pushing out of his chest.“You expect me to decide now?” he asked. His voice was flat, but the tension behind it cracked like dry leaves under pressure. “You want me to make a decision this heavy... here, now, in this very moment?”Farouq nodded once. “Your time is going, Mr. Bowen. I won’t sit here all night waiting for you to wrestle with your conscience.”Carl’s face twisted into a deeper frown. “This isn’t a conscience decision. It’s a trap. And I don’t make life-and-death choices while standing under a blade.”Farouq folded his arms loosely, the faintest curve at the corner of his mouth suggested he found that statement amusing.Carl took a

  • THE TERMS OF EXTINCTION

    Farouq Khyber sat still, his eyes were locked on Carl Bowen like a hawk watching a trembling mouse. For a few moments, there was only silence in the room. It wasn’t peaceful silence—it was the kind that pressed down on the skin, made the air feel thick, and made the heart beat louder inside the chest.Then, slowly, Farouq’s gaze softened. Not much—but enough to be noticed.“You surprise me, Mr. Bowen,” he said, folding his hands neatly in front of him. “Many men would be on their knees by now. Many men have begged me for less than what I just offered. But you? You sit straight. You speak clearly. You even pretend to smile.”Carl said nothing, but his jaw tightened.Farouq continued, his voice was low and almost admiring.“I can see the weight on your shoulders,” he said. “The pressure pressing in from every side. Your company is frozen. Your employees are restless. Your partners whisper behind your back. And yet, here you are—playing calm. Acting as if you still hold the cards.”He l

  • ICE AND STEEL

    Farouq Khyber stepped forward slowly, like a man who had all the time in the world. His eyes scanned the room with silent curiosity—not with awe, but with judgment. His movements were controlled, measured, deliberate.Carl Bowen motioned towards the chair across from his desk.“Have a seat, please,” he said.Farouq gave another small nod and walked to the chair, his polished black shoes made soft sounds against the marble floor. He sat down carefully, not slouching, not relaxing, but sitting with quiet power. One leg crossed over the other. His back was straight. His hands rested gently on his knee.Carl walked back to his own side of the desk and sat down too. He made sure to move with calmness, though his heart was still beating faster than normal.“Would you like anything to drink?” Carl offered. “Tea? Coffee?”Farouq’s face remained unreadable. “No. Thank you.”His voice was smooth but cold, like water running over ice.Carl tried to smile, just a little, to ease the tension in

  • THE VISITOR IN BLACK

    Carl Bowen had been assured that a solution would come.The voice on the phone—cold and commanding—had given him that much. The assurance wasn’t gentle, but it had weight. The kind of weight that didn’t feel like comfort, but something stronger: certainty.The voice had said, “You will not fall. I’ll see to that myself. One way or another, the Bowen family will not crumble.”Carl had held on to those words like a lifeline.That had been one week ago.Now, he sat in his office, with a thick porcelain mug warming his hands. The coffee inside had gone lukewarm, but he hadn’t touched it in several minutes. The dark liquid swirled slowly as he shifted in his chair.On the wide screen in front of him, the Westwood Business News was playing. He wasn’t really watching it—just letting the noise fill the silence of the room. The screen displayed a panel of analysts talking about recent power shifts in the financial sector, and speculation about the “Bowen Freeze.”Carl’s jaw was tight.His su

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