Marseille, the receptionist, handed Ivy the room key after her call with Mr. Levi. Ivy nodded her thanks and turned toward the elevator. Once the doors slid shut, she began peeling off her hoodie, then her baggy jeans. A quick tap on her shoes transformed her completely — Ivy was no longer the girl who'd walked in
"Strapped in sleek black from head to toe, Ivy's transformation was striking. Her fitted attire moved with her like a second skin, highlighting her sharp confidence and agility. Two subtle purple streaks in her dark hair added a rebellious edge, while her black boots echoed purpose with each step. She stepped out of the elevator, a completely different person from the one who entered."
She stepped out of the elevator, transformed. Without hesitation, she tossed her old clothes into a nearby closet. Smooth and confident, she walked down the hallway, eyes fixed on room 303.
Ivy slid the keycard and pushed open the door. The room was sleek and dark, lit by warm amber lights casting soft shadows. A large window showed the city's glowing skyline. Minimalist furniture—black leather sofa, steel table with gadgets, and a laptop on a tidy desk—set the tone. The bed, neatly made with grey linens, waited quietly. Everything was in place for what was Coming
Ivy stepped fully into the room, taking a brief moment to admire its sleek modern design—the minimalist decor, soft ambient lighting, and the subtle hum of hidden tech gave the place an almost sterile elegance. But there was no time to waste. She was here on a mission.
Just as she began scanning the room for anything unusual, a familiar voice crackled through her wireless earpiece.
"Agent Knox, do you copy? You hear me?"
Ivy rolled her eyes and muttered, "Rico, shut up. Seriously."
A low chuckle responded, "I'm serious. You've got less than 20 minutes to find the chip."
She sighed sharply. "I hear you," she said, then tapped her earpiece twice, disconnecting the call. Silence filled her ears as she shifted her focus entirely on the task ahead
Ivy moved quickly, her eyes scanning every inch of the room. The sleek glass desk, the digital art frames, even the plush armchair—nothing escaped her notice. She crouched to inspect the floor vents and ran her fingers along the edges of the heavy curtains.
Her heart rate picked up as she reached the modern bookshelf. With a subtle tap, a hidden panel slid open, revealing a small, blinking device nestled inside—a microchip, no bigger than a fingernail.
She grabbed it carefully, tucking it into a pocket inside her jacket. Just then, her earpiece buzzed again.
"Time's almost up, Knox," Rico's voice warned.
Ivy smirked. "On it," she whispered, already planning her exit.
Just as Ivy slipped the chip into her pocket, the hotel lobby doors swung open. Mr. Levi Anderson strode in, his presence commanding immediate attention. His tailored suit was impeccable, but the sharp crease in his brow revealed his frustration.
At the front desk, Marseille spotted him and quickly straightened. "Mr. Anderson," she greeted nervously.
Levi's voice was cold as he asked, "Where's my room key?
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