Page 74 of The Oyabun's Boy

Come on, come on. Give me something.

A door at the end of the hall had a small service cart outside it. I stumbled toward it, hoping against hope that the housekeeping staff had left it unlocked. My hand wrapped around the cold metal handle and I turned it.

It gave slightly, but didn't open. Not completely locked, but not open either. In my desperation, I threw my shoulder against it, putting what little strength I had left into the effort.

The door gave way suddenly, and I pitched forward into the room, barely keeping my feet under me. I stumbled two steps inside before freezing, my drugged brain slowly processing that I wasn't alone.

The suite was elegant, but understated, all clean lines and muted colors. Floor-to-ceiling windows dominated one wall, the city lights beyond them creating a glittering backdrop.

A sitting area with plush furniture occupied the space near the door, and beyond that... a man sat propped up in a massive bed, tablet in hand, staring at me with an expression of complete surprise. Not just any man. Possibly the most gorgeous man I'd ever seen in my life.

Dark hair with hints of silver at the temples framed a face that belonged on the cover of GQ—strong jawline, high cheekbones, and eyes that pinned me in place even through my drug haze. His broad shoulders were covered by a simple black t-shirt that did nothing to hide his muscular build.

"What the—" he began, his deep voice sending an unexpected shiver down my spine despite my dire situation.

"I'm sorry," I slurred, swaying on my feet. "So sorry. They're after me."

His eyes narrowed, taking in my disheveled appearance. "Who's after you?"

"Bad people. My mother." I tried to explain, but my tongue felt twice its normal size.

The man's expression shifted from surprise to something harder, more calculating. Before he could respond, heavy footsteps sounded in the hallway, followed by a voice just outside the door.

"Check this one. The door's ajar."

Terror jolted through me, temporarily clearing some of the fog. I stared at the stranger, silently pleading. I had no right to drag him into my mess, but I was out of options and rapidly losing my ability to even stand upright.

The man made a swift decision, his eyes never leaving mine as he called out, "I'm busy. Come back later."

"Sir, we're looking for someone who may have entered your room," came the reply.

The footsteps paused just outside the still-open door. In seconds, they'd come in and find me. In seconds, whatever fate my mother had arranged with Harris would be inevitable.

"Please," I whispered, the word barely audible.

The stranger's jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he'd give me up. Instead, he gestured sharply toward the bed with a quick jerk of his chin.

I didn't need to be told twice. I stumbled forward, my legs finally giving out as I collapsed onto the mattress. With the last of my coordination, I managed to dive under the covers beside him just as the door swung open wider.

The man beside me stiffened at the contact, his body going rigid. I could feel the warmth of him through his clothes, could smell his expensive cologne—something woodsy and clean that even my panicked brain appreciated.

"What do you want?" he snapped at whoever stood in the doorway. His voice had changed, becoming sharper, more authoritative. "This is a private suite."

I held my breath, pressing my face into the pillow to hide it from view. My heart pounded so loudly I was sure everyone could hear it. The man—my reluctant savior—shifted slightly, his arm pressing against mine under the covers.

"Hotel security, sir," came the response. "We're looking for a young man who may have entered your room."

"Does it look like anyone's in here besides me?" The man's voice dripped with irritation. "I value my privacy, which is why I pay for the presidential suite. Now, if you don't mind..."

There was a pause, during which I could practically feel the weight of scrutiny from the doorway. I remained perfectly still, though every muscle in my body screamed with tension.

"We apologize for the disturbance, sir," the voice finally said. "Please let the front desk know if you see anything suspicious."

"Close the door on your way out," the man ordered.

The soft click of the door shutting was the sweetest sound I'd ever heard. Still, I didn't move, afraid this might be a trick. The stranger beside me let out a long, slow breath before shifting to look down at me.

"They're gone," he said, his voice tight. "Now, would you mind explaining why you've broken into my room and climbed into my bed?"