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I straightened up, meeting her gaze squarely. "Yes, I have worked closely with the Nováks over the past few months. You already know my company made the original purchase offer.”
“I do. Of course.”
“We were committed to preserving the hotel's legacy while updating it for modern times." The words felt so futile now.
A light laugh-like noise came out of her mouth, but her eyes remained cold. "Preserving legacy is noble, but sometimes we must let go of the past to embrace the future. The Novák Hotel has potential, but it requires more than a facelift. It needs a complete overhaul."
I felt a surge of irritation. What did this woman know? Apparently more than you, Sienna, because she won this battle. “With all due respect, Ms. Wolf—Greta—I believe we can modernize without stripping the hotel of its essence. It's a part of Prague's history, not just a building."
She took a sip of her martini, her gaze unwavering. "History is important, but in business, the bottom-line reigns. My company has the resources and vision to transform this place. It's a pity you're obstructing progress."
My grip on my glass tightened. "I'm obstructing your version of progress, which overlooks the values of the Novák family. This isn't just a transaction for me. I care about the hotel and the people it represents."
Greta leaned in, her voice low and challenging. "Care is a luxury in our line of work, Ms. Frost. I'd hate to see your sentimentality be your downfall."
She stood straighter. “But all of this is just conversation now. Wolf Corp is thrilled to be buying the Novák. I admire your passion, Sienna. Perhaps if you ever find yourself wanting to move to Berlin, you might consider coming to work for Wolf Corp. We could use someone like you.”
I held back my choice words at that idea.
“Have a good night, Sienna.”
With that, she walked away, leaving me seething with anger and determination.
ChapterTwenty-One
Feeling overheated and a little woozy, I escaped the gala's intensity and wandered through the quieter corridors of the hotel. The opulence gave way to more intimate spaces where the hotel's true soul resided.
Turning a corner, I stumbled upon a dimly lit room. There, in a high-backed rocking chair surrounded by potted plants and old photographs, sat an elderly woman wrapped in a wool shawl. I stopped short, stopping myself from crying out in alarm. She didn’t seem to notice me, just sat in silence, staring at nothing. For a moment, I thought I might have seen a ghost.
Finally, she turned toward me and flashed me a crooked smile. She had a soft, weathered face and long gray hair falling over her shoulder in a braid.
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you,” I said.
She beckoned me over. “Come.”
I hesitated for a moment, but when she repeated the gesture, I stepped into the room.
“Ahoj,” she said, extending a spotted, wrinkled hand to me.
“Ahoj.” I offered her hand a light squeeze, but to my surprise, she held it tight. She turned my hand over, and her bony fingers traced my palm lines. She murmured softly in Czech as her fingertips ran over the faint lines etched in my skin.
Finally, she looked up at me and whispered. “Passionate romance. Tough decision."
Her words sent a shiver down my spine. I tried to laugh it off.
“You can read fortunes?”
She pursed her lips and shrugged. “I am very old.” As though that answered the question.
I laughed. “Do you—do you work here?” I asked slowly.
She sighed and nodded. “More than sixty year.”
“Wow. That’s—that’s incredible.”
“I see many things. I see love and death. Sadness. But joy. That is life.”
“That is life,” I echoed. “I’m Sienna.”
