The glass doors of the Grand Rose Hotel slid open with a whisper, releasing a wave of chilled air that swept over Ava Carter as she stepped inside. She paused, dragging her suitcase across the polished marble floor, her eyes scanning the gilded lobby in awe. Everything gleamed — from the chandelier dripping crystals above her head to the gold-framed paintings lining the walls.

This was supposed to be a trip for two. A celebration. A new beginning.

Instead, it was just her.

She pressed her lips together, refusing to let the ache in her chest overwhelm the excitement buzzing inside her. The sting of betrayal was still raw — her boyfriend’s lies, the whispered excuses, the ugly truth she had stumbled upon the night before. He had promised her the world, and instead he’d given his attention to someone else.

Fine. Let him.

She wasn’t going to waste her tears, not here, not on this trip she had already paid for with her own savings. This was her graduation gift to herself, and she’d be damned if she let a cheating man steal it from her.

“Reservation under Ava Carter,” she told the receptionist, forcing her voice steady.

The young woman behind the desk typed briskly on her computer, her professional smile never wavering. “Yes, Ms. Carter. A deluxe suite for four nights. Welcome to the Grand Rose.”

Deluxe. Ava’s heart gave a little leap. She had almost canceled everything after the breakup, but staring at the confirmation email that morning, she’d decided she needed this escape. More than ever.

She accepted the key card and wheeled her bag toward the elevator, her heels clicking softly against the floor. She pressed the button for the top floor and leaned back against the mirrored wall, exhaling.

This was her chance. A reset. A clean break from the mess her life had become.

When she entered the suite, the sight took her breath away. The room was spacious, with velvet curtains drawn back to reveal a stunning view of the city’s skyline glittering in the late afternoon sun. A king-sized bed sat in the middle, dressed in crisp white sheets that looked softer than clouds. A bottle of champagne waited in an ice bucket on the side table, along with two glasses.

Her smile faltered for just a second. Two glasses. For a couple.

She clenched her fists at her sides. “Not today, Ava,” she whispered to herself.

Dragging her bag into the corner, she unpacked slowly, letting the silence of the suite soothe her. She tried to convince herself that this wasn’t strange, that it wasn’t pathetic to be alone here. She was going to make this trip hers.

She wandered into the bathroom, marveling at the deep soaking tub, the marble counters, and the tiny bottles of expensive bath oils. It smelled faintly of roses and cedar, heady and luxurious. For the first time all week, she felt a spark of anticipation that had nothing to do with heartbreak.

Ava stripped out of her travel clothes and filled the tub, sinking into the steaming water with a sigh. The warmth loosened her muscles, unraveling the knots of tension she had carried since the breakup. She let her head fall back, eyes fluttering shut, and allowed herself a moment of selfish indulgence.

No tears. No regrets. Just this.

Later, wrapped in a robe, she padded back into the bedroom and poured herself a glass of champagne. The bubbles fizzed against her lips as she sat on the edge of the bed, legs curled beneath her. A flicker of loneliness stirred in her chest, but she pushed it away.

She would enjoy this. Even if she was alone.

Setting the glass aside, she reached for her phone, scrolling absentmindedly through social media. Every smiling couple photo stabbed at her, but she ignored the pang. Instead, she tossed the phone onto the nightstand and flopped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

Her body still hummed from the bath, warm and restless. She bit her lip, hesitant. The thought that crossed her mind was one she normally shoved away, but here, in this luxurious cocoon, miles away from anyone who knew her, the temptation was stronger.

Just this once.

Ava’s hand slid beneath the robe, her breath catching as she touched herself, slow and tentative at first, then more boldly as her body responded. She closed her eyes, imagining the faceless outline of someone who could erase all the pain, someone who could make her forget.

The door clicked.

Her eyes flew open.

And there, framed in the doorway, was a man.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dark hair, messy as though he had run his hands through it on his way upstairs. He wore a tailored suit that hugged every inch of his sculpted frame, and his eyes — sharp, molten, and shocked — locked onto hers.

Ava froze, heart slamming against her ribs.

The stranger’s mouth curved into something dangerously close to a smirk.

“Well,” his voice was deep, rough velvet, carrying a mix of amusement and something far darker. “This is… not what I expected to walk into.”

Ava’s scream caught in her throat. She yanked the robe closed, scrambling upright. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

He raised a brow, holding up a key card between two fingers. “That’s my question, sweetheart. This is my room.”

Her blood ran cold.

No. No, no, no. This had to be a mistake.

The man stepped inside, letting the door click shut behind him, and suddenly the spacious suite felt suffocating.

Ava clutched the robe tighter, her mind racing. The hotel. The reservation. The two glasses.

Oh, God.

There had been a mistake.