“Is this true?” Arthur asked the two men, his voice shaking, not with fear, but with a pure and rising rage.

Patrick could not speak.

He looked as though he might faint where he stood.

Karl, however, made the mistake of trying to defend himself.

“Mr.

Sterling, we, we didn’t know who she was!” he stammered.

“The booking was under the secondary corporate block, and she was dressed—”

“She was dressed like a mother carrying a tired child!” Arthur roared, and he slammed his fist down onto the marble desk so hard that both men jumped.