The Return of the Cannon Fodder Trillion Heiress - Chapter 822

Chapter 822: Chapter 822 Stealing Someone Else’s Room
Hera had originally been assigned a suite, but when they arrived at the front desk, she learned that Cindy had already arranged for a presidential suite. However, since Hera had previously stated that she would follow the organizer’s arrangements, she couldn’t simply accept the presidential suite. So, she handed the key over to Athena, allowing the three of them to stay there instead.

Athena didn’t dwell on Hera’s decision, understanding that wherever Hera chose to sleep wouldn’t matter much. After all, Athena knew Hera well enough to realize that she could sleep anywhere—even beside a trashcan—and still make it look graceful. It was clear Hera simply wanted to show respect to the organizers, not wanting to seem overly demanding or entitled.

Besides, she had already made a statement by arriving in the luxury car. Too much attention wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it also meant that she’d be more likely to attract unwanted attention or even malicious intentions. So, it was better to keep things balanced.

Athena, Liz, and Minerva accompanied Hera to drop her off at her room. On the way there, however, they ran into Alice again. The hallway felt that the road was really narrow for enemies to always cross paths.

Alice stepped into the elevator with them, along with the Frenchman who picked them up earlier, and the atmosphere instantly turned tense—everyone fell silent. Only one of Hera’s bodyguards was with them at the time; the rest were patrolling the hotel perimeter, keeping an eye out for any suspicious individuals or potential threats that could endanger Hera’s safety. The lone guard was tasked with escorting her directly to her room.

When they reached the 7th floor, Hera and the others stepped out of the elevator and made their way to room 713. To their surprise, Alice also stopped just beside them, at room 714. She hesitated, then turned to look at Hera.

For a moment, Alice felt her heart skip a beat. She couldn’t help but wonder: ‘Was Hera really Andarta Aria?’ But then she saw Athena swipe the keycard, and with Liz, Minerva, and Hera all present, it didn’t necessarily confirm anything. Relieved, Alice exhaled quietly.

Just as Athena and the others were about to enter the room, another woman suddenly appeared, pushing her way past them with a suitcase in tow. She strode confidently into Hera’s suite, catching everyone off guard. Even Hera’s bodyguard looked unsure of how to react—after all, the intruder was a woman, and he couldn’t just grab her. Without saying a word, the woman plopped down on the bed like she owned the place.

“I like this room. I’ll take it,” the woman said flatly as she glanced at Hera, clearly expecting her to step aside and close the door behind her.

Hera raised an eyebrow, stunned by the woman’s audacity. She kept her tone calm and polite, though a hint of disbelief crept into her voice. “Excuse me? This isn’t your room. You might be in the wrong one.”

The woman simply rolled her eyes in response, her expression dripping with disdain, as if Hera’s presence was the inconvenience, not the other way around.

“It might not have been before, but it is now,” the woman said coolly, throwing Hera a sharp look that all but screamed she was losing her patience. The unspoken message was clear: Hera should know her place and step aside before things got ugly.

But Hera didn’t budge. This was her room.

She glanced around and suddenly understood the woman’s stubbornness—her suite offered a perfect, unobstructed view of the Eiffel Tower, a postcard-worthy snapshot of Paris that would only become more breathtaking at night. No wonder the woman refused to leave.

“How much do you want for this room? I’ll give you $10,000,” the woman added casually, already reaching into her designer purse.

Hera blinked, stunned into silence for a beat. Then she laughed—sharp and disbelieving. It was that kind of laugh that came when words failed because the absurdity was just too much. The woman stood there, looking like she thought she was doing Hera a favor, exuding the smug air of someone offering charity to the less fortunate.

Even one of the competition staff, who had been watching the exchange nearby, looked like he was seconds away from snapping. With a furrowed brow, he strode toward them, clearly ready to remove the woman himself.

“Hey, you crazy woman! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the Frenchman barked in French, striding forward without hesitation. “This room belongs to mon amour! It was reserved by the IGI Expressions Competition Finale—you can’t just barge in and throw your stupid money around. Go cause trouble somewhere else!”

He was fuming, clearly unfazed by the woman’s identity or status. Reckless? Maybe. But there was no mistaking the fire in his eyes—he didn’t seem like someone who feared stepping on the wrong toes.

The woman, unmistakably French, fired back in her native tongue. “So what? I can get any room I want. I’m the daughter of the competition director, so why shouldn’t I have the room I prefer? I’m paying for it, aren’t I? What’s the big deal?”

“Even if you’ve got money, you can’t just steal someone else’s room,” the man snapped back. “If you want a room, go to the front desk and get one the right way.”

The woman scoffed. “Why should I bother? I found the room I like. Since it’s under the competition’s name, I’ll just take it and let them move somewhere else. Simple.”

She shot Hera a disdainful glance, her expression dripping with irritation, as if Hera and her friends were beneath her.

Then she turned back to Hera and, in flawless English, added with a smirk, “Fine. If $10,000 isn’t enough, how about $50,000?”

Her tone was patronizing, like she was tossing scraps to someone she thought she could easily dismiss. It hit Hera like a slap—entitled, smug, and completely infuriating.

‘This is already the best I’m willing to offer this woman,’ the intruder thought with a scoff, her expression laced with superiority. ‘If the presidential suite weren’t already booked and the other rooms weren’t full, would I even have to lower myself to deal with these nobodies? As long as she takes the money, let them scramble for another room. Why should I move when I can claim this one with a flick of my finger?’

She eyed Hera dismissively, clearly not taking her or her friends seriously. Though Hera’s companions were dressed head-to-toe in designer fashion, Hera herself wore something deceptively simple.

What the woman didn’t realize, however, was that Hera’s outfit, though minimal in style, was custom-made from high-end fabrics that whispered understated luxury and effortless comfort, far beyond the grasp of those who needed logos to prove worth.

But it seemed this woman only recognized status through flashy designer labels. When her eyes landed on Hera’s understated Hermès bag, she gave her a knowing, patronizing glance—like she was certain it was a cheap imitation on a girl playing dress-up. The look said it all: she had already judged Hera as a pretender, and now she looked down on her with even more contempt.

_____

Thank you FallinBloom, dear for the Golden Tickets!!!!

(๑ ˆ ³ (ŐωŐ人)