Perla hôtel

This day is for me and for everyone who stood by my side. A definition of who we are now. We stayed up... and worked... and cried... and laughed... just so the sun of this day could rise upon us, fully prepared to show people that the Perla Hotel is not just an ordinary place, but a paradise of happiness... comfort... fun... enjoyment. And so, with joy and pleasure, we inform you that we are ready to welcome you with anticipation on November 2nd to revive the Perla Hotel once again.

|You are the lights of our success|

The opening poster adorned the streets of Taranto in a captivating way. People formed crowded groups just to see the opening date.

The staff filled the hotel like eager visitors, running through the corridors and inspecting every inch of everything prepared for the opening. The chefs were adding the final touches to the dishes, the guards were wearing their formal attire and standing like soldiers outside. Everyone was eagerly waiting just to see someone enter the hotel.

All that overwhelming happiness that pervaded the place, its owner sat quietly, at a desk made of original wood and decorated with royal drawings. Books lay carelessly scattered in one corner, while the other corner represented a space dedicated to a collection of lovely plants, bearing fragrant flowers. It was a peculiar room, a puzzle that could only be solved by one key, which was the owner herself.

She adjusted her posture on the chair, contemplating the last problem whose solution still felt like a missing piece of her mind... No matter how much she thought and tried, she wouldn't be able to achieve it, but she could contribute to increasing the probability of its realization. No matter what, she had to try.

This was Marietta, the president and sole owner of the Perla Hotel. A woman in her thirties who showed no signs of aging except in her extraordinarily intelligent mind, with gentle features and white hair. There was no room for joking with her during business deals, but she was loved and loved everyone.

Her concentration was interrupted by a knock on the door, so she looked towards it, allowing the knocker to enter. It was a beautiful, tall young woman with striking red streaks in her black hair, wearing a knee-length gray dress and a half-apron in black, which was the hotel staff uniform.

Marietta recognized her immediately upon entering, a slight smile gracing her features. It was Silva Carteza.

"My answer to you right now, Silva... don't open your mouth to say anything."

Marietta memorized all of Silva's actions and way of speaking, as she was, after all, her personal assistant. She was a girl who knew all the news, a witness to all the events and scandals, and never missed an opportunity to spread them on the widest scale across the globe in a matter of seconds.

And her presence here now indicated that a problem had occurred. And Marietta couldn't bear to hear it; she was supposed to be overseeing the preparations downstairs until they met at exactly eight o'clock.

"How can I not, when you haven't even heard what I was going to say yet?"

She stalled as usual and wouldn't stop until she was allowed to spill the contents of her words. Marietta was very active with the preparations for today's opening, but the news Silva carried on her tongue psychologically drained her.

"Are the dishes ready?"

"Yes..."

"Have the camera wires been checked?"

"Yes..."

"Has the drinks order arrived?"

"About the drinks..."

Marietta held her breath, waiting to hear the rest of the sentence, unsure if its completion would please her ears or not. There was no time for mistakes.

"The red wine delivery hasn't been received in the warehouse yet, so Bruno sent me to let you know," she said in a low voice, her gaze lowered.

Marietta had a feeling something would be missing today, and now it was confirmed. Bruno was the head chef and responsible for preparing the hotel's menu. What distinguished him most was his kind heart and good intentions; his meals were world-class to Marietta because he cooked them with his heart and with love. But he became a different person if anything disrupted his dish preparation.

She raised her hand to her forehead, massaging the area as she tried to find a quick alternative solution at that moment. Not much time was left before the guests arrived, and Bruno's calm wouldn't last long. It was enough that everyone was tense due to the opening.

She straightened up from her seat and turned from her desk, heading towards the door. Sitting here wouldn't bring solutions, so she decided to go down to the storage. As soon as she reached to open the door, three knocks echoed on it.

She turned to Seva with a questioning look, trying to know if she was aware of the knocker's identity, as the upper floor was now empty of staff. But the other woman raised her eyebrows in ignorance.

So she grasped the doorknob to open it.

Her smile widened, and she quickly embraced the blonde girl with happiness.

"Welcome back, my little Teresa."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At Taranto Airport.

Steve was stationed outside. Dressed in formal black and white attire, he leaned against a BMW 7 Series, waiting for his boss to arrive.

The outer doors of the arrival hall suddenly opened, and people began to emerge in random groups.

He raised his eyes, trying to spot the person he had been waiting for not so long. As soon as his eyes caught sight of him, he straightened up, adjusted his posture, and raised his hand to wave.

He appeared from the middle of a group of people who looked Asian. He was wearing gray sweatpants and matching sneakers, a black t-shirt, and a white hooded jacket with the hood pulled over his head.

His appearance didn't surprise Steve; he always wore comfortable clothes, which truly suited his impressive athletic build.

"Your sharp gaze will bore holes into me, man."

As he reached him, he joked with his usual husky voice. He didn't joke with just anyone, only those close to him, and their relationship wasn't that of a boss and servant but close friends. They were practically brothers, having grown up together, learned together, and fought together. A year had passed since their last meeting, as Steve had moved from Spain to Italy.

"My gaze wasn't for you, but for an attractive girl behind you."

A chuckle escaped him as he approached and gave me a brotherly hug, which I warmly returned.

"I missed you, Santino Christopher."

"Enough with the drama, man."

Steve took his bag, carried it, and placed it in the back of the car, while he headed towards the driver's seat to get in. I did the same and got into the front passenger seat.

He started the car and drove it out of the airport vicinity.

"So, will you be staying with me, Christoph?" Steve asked, inquiring about where he intended to spend the night. He hadn't yet informed him of any of his plans for his stay here.

"No, I'll rent a room in a hotel."

He refused in a calm tone while extending his hand out of the car window, feeling the light Italian air. Despite Steve knowing that Christopher wasn't familiar with all the areas here, he decided to ask him again.

"Which hotel will you be staying at then?"

"I have no idea."

Steve knew this because Christopher never planned anything; he always went straight ahead and didn't think about the consequences of his actions until it was too late. And as always, he decided to help him.

"There's a hotel that opened today; as far as I know, it's not bad. Its posters are all over the streets of Taranto."

"I don't care if it's a good hotel. All I care about is having a bed to sleep on." He spoke with weary eyes that showed the fatigue of travel.

"Alright, let's go and book you a room before your dream bed is gone..."