Bitcoin Billionaire: I Regressed to Invest in the First Bitcoin!-Chapter 64: Golden Hay Hotel

The next day, early that morning, in the headquarters of Smithers Group, Gareth Smithers paced back and forth in his spacious, mahogany-lined office.

He was grunting and muttering to himself. His fingers twitched with irritation as he pressed the call button on his office phone for the tenth time that morning.

The sharp, rhythmic beeping that signaled an unanswered call rang in his ears like an unbearable siren.

Still no response.

Gareth's jaw clenched as he grabbed his personal phone, quickly going through his messages.

— Where the hell are you?

— Why haven't you returned with news?

— Did Darren Steele accept the settlement?

— ANSWER ME, RACHEL.

Nothing. Not a single reply. His secretary had been completely off the grid since he sent her on an errand yesterday.

It was unheard of. Unacceptable. Disrespectful. No one ever dared disrespected him before.

What's this going on? Why did it feel like his company was crumbling right before his eyes?!

Gareth's grip tightened on the phone. His patience, already threadbare, finally snapped.

"WHERE IS MY SECRETARY?!" he bellowed, slamming his fist on the polished oak desk. The impact sent a pen holder clattering to the ground. He hit redial— again. The call went straight to voicemail.

Gareth seethed, chest heaving, face burning red with fury. He sent another furious text, then another. His thumbs pounded against the buttons of his Nokia like they were trying to shatter it.

Then a dark thought crept into his mind.

Had Darren Steele done something to her?

That bloody fucker! That meddling pest! That bastard! Steeeleee!

The old man could not control his rage.

The idea of it alone sent his blood pressure skyrocketing. He grabbed the phone, raised it above his head, and hurled it against the wall.

CRASH!

The device shattered into pieces upon impact, a spray of plastic and glass scattering across the office floor.

A guttural growl tore from his throat. His hands curled into fists, his nostrils flared, and his body trembled with rage.

Then, his eyes snapped toward the door.

"LILY!" he roared. "GET IN HERE! NOW! LILY!"

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This chapter is updat𝓮d by freēnovelkiss.com.

All the way on the other side of the city, a beautiful hotel stood amongst other buildings.

The Golden Hay Los Alverez Hotel was a symbol of wealth, luxury, and exclusivity. Situated near the heart of Los Alverez, Calivernia, this branch of the prestigious Golden Hay hotel chain catered only to the elite.

Its grand entrance was adorned with towering marble pillars, and an expansive, red-carpeted driveway stretched before it, where black sedans and Rolls Royces pulled up to deliver their distinguished guests.

The revolving glass doors led into a lobby bathed in golden light, where a massive chandelier dangled from the vaulted ceiling, its crystal facets catching the light like a sea of diamonds.

The reception area was lined with sleek black counters, where elegantly dressed concierges attended to guests with practiced smiles. Plush velvet sofas were scattered throughout, occupied by men in tailored suits and women draped in designer gowns.

A single room in this hotel did not come cheap. Here, a standard suite cost nearly $2,500 a night, and the penthouses?

Well, those were reserved for millionaires and foreign dignitaries willing to shell out tens of thousands for a single stay.

Inside one of the lavish suites, Rachel Teschmacher sat on the edge of a king-sized bed, her fingers trembling slightly as she clutched her phone.

Her dull blue eyes were locked on the screen, where Gareth's name appeared over and over again in missed calls and unread messages.

— Where are you?

— You better pick up NOW.

— Come back. Or else.

Her lips parted slightly, her breath uneven. The threats were unspoken but clear. Gareth was growing impatient.

Gareth had warned her before the things he could do if he ever betrayed her. She knew them all. And that was what terrified her.

A sharp knock on the door made her jolt.

She looked up, and there stood Darren Steele.

The tension in her shoulders eased just slightly. Seeing him was like an ice cube falling into boiling water, melting her fears away.

She walked to him and lifted the phone, showing him the screen and the relentless calls and messages.

"He won't stop calling, and texting. I don't know what to do."

Darren's face was expressionless.

He took the phone from her hand, looked at the screen for a second, then without hesitation, let it slip from his fingers.

The device hit the marble floor with a crack. Then, still saying nothing, he brought his shoe down and crushed it beneath his heel. The crunching sound echoed in the room.

Rachel gasped, her eyes widening. She wanted to ask what he was doing but Darren spoke.

"I'll get you a new one," he said flatly. His voice was subtle. "I don't want you seeing anything that'll make you worry."

She gazed up at him, her heart pounding.

He had been the one to bring her here, to hide her away in this hotel, knowing full well that Gareth would have sent people to search her home first.

There were many other hotels in the city too, but it felt like Darren had methodically picked this one.

Perhaps, there was something about this one. Most of the hotels in the city did in one way or the other connect to Archibald Mooney and Richard Morrison, who were both Gareth's allies.

Darren must have had his reasons for picking this one.

---

Down in the hallways of Golden Hay, a group of sharply dressed businessmen strolled with a young boy at the center.

The boy, no older than twenty-two, looked slightly overwhelmed as the men guided him through the hotel corridors.

"This is one of your properties now, Grant," one of the men told him with a smile. "The Golden Hay Los Alverez is just one of many."

"Your father built an empire," another added. "Now, it's your turn to take charge."

Grant Hayes nodded hesitantly, his gaze shifting around the grand hallway, taking in the opulence of the hotel he now owned. The chandeliers, the polished floors, the towering windows— it was all his.

It had happened in a rush. His father suddenly dying and all he owned being placed under his name. Grant wasn't even a business major. He feared that he didn't know what he was doing and was going to let his father down.

As they rounded a corner, his eyes landed on a figure standing by one of the room doors.

A man.

Brown, neatly combed hair. Sharp posture. A stance that carried an air of quiet authority.

Grant squinted slightly, his steps slowing. There was something familiar about him.

'Where have I seen this guy before?'

The answer was on the tip of his tongue.

Maybe if he got closer he could see who the man was.

Darren, oblivious to the men approaching his room, had his focus on Rachel. "Can I come in?" he asked her.

"What?" Rachel stared at him. "Of course. Yes."

Darren stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

No wait! The door closed just as he got close enough. Grant was only able to see the room number.

His companions kept talking, their voices blending into the background. But his thoughts were elsewhere.

'I'm not so sure… but that looked like the same man from the casino.'

Grant's brow furrowed, head low.

'Was it really him?'