His Discarded Bride #thefictionawards2019

Part Thirteen

CHAPTER TWELVE

"I've booked us into the Westin Excelsior," he stated as they drove towards the valet service.

"Isn't this the same street as your apartment?" she queried.

"It is, but it is an experience I don't want you to miss. I thought it would complement the rest of your day. The rooms we are staying in are quite a sight, and most people never get the chance to appreciate them."

The entrance to the hotel was impressive, but nothing could have prepared her for their suite, which was called the Villa La Cupola. The cupola was, in fact, a hand-painted dome nearly twelve metres high. The private butler gave them a quick tour of the two floors that was nothing short of over-the-top extravagance.

It had its own Pompeiian-styled Jacuzzi pool, fitness room, sauna, and steam bath. They also had a private cinema, a wine cellar, and a panoramic view of the city. It was incredible.

They followed the butler out onto one of the terraces. There were seven terraces total, and they would all be perfect to sit out on and while away time with a few glasses of vino.

There was, of course, a private elevator, a formal dining room, and a separate kitchen. Renato had ensured that the extra five connecting rooms, as well as the two that came with the suite, were all included so as to provide complete privacy on both floors.

Finally, when the butler left, his tip in hand, Leilani couldn't help but ask, "This must have cost you a small fortune. I know it's probably crass to ask, but how much would a room like this cost per night?"

"I'm not entirely sure. Camilla would have negotiated a good deal, but possibly it would still have cost around 15,000 euros, give or take."

If she had have been drinking, she would have choked. "There was a time when that would have been close to my yearly salary, and to think that people have that kind of money to drop on a single night out... It's just so far removed from my reality," she mused aloud.

"Being removed from your reality is a thing of the past. All of this is now your world, and I want you to feel comfortable with it," he said in earnest.

"I think that would take a lot to get used to."

"The reality is that a room like this, even though it is easily affordable to me, is still a rare treat. If I went around dropping this kind of cash daily, my wealth would diminish soon enough. I wanted to treat you today, and splurging is relative to one's income, wouldn't you agree?"

She nodded her head, only partially convinced.

Not happy with her lack of conviction, he pressed on: "Look at it this way. A man earns a modest income of a few hundred euros a week. He splurges one hundred of them on his loved one for a special night; is that acceptable?" he led.

"I guess so," she answered.

His eyes lit up in clear anticipation of winning this debate. "That man would have spent one-fifth of his weekly salary on his loved one, and you agreed this to be an acceptable amount. The sum I've spent here at the Westin is only a fraction of my salary: completely affordable," he saved the best for last. "If I had purchased a 100-euro more average room for the night, would you have thought me romantic?"

"Ah, okay. I get your point. However, a lovely room somewhere in between said prices would also have been just as acceptable," she smiled. It was true she didn't need this level of opulence to give her happiness. It was incredible but unnecessary.

He looked unconvinced and steered her in the direction of one of the terraces. "Let's relax now. I thought we could simply stay in tonight and continue to get to know one another. We could enjoy the many wonders of the suite." The latter was said with just enough suggestiveness that she finally realised that Renato may be expecting things to move along at a much more rapid pace than she had thought, and, truthfully, she wasn't sure if she would object.