The morning sunlight burned Carlos’s nose more harshly than usual. He turned to his other side, still not ready to open his eyes. But as he shifted, the silky fabric brushing against his face caught him off guard. What kind of bedding had the housekeeper put on? He couldn’t even remember ever buying cool satin sheets instead of his usual cotton ones. Distracted, he patted the pillow—it felt firmer, thicker. Was he not in his own bed?
His eyes snapped open.
And sure enough— He’d woken up in a hotel room, right next to María José.
For a split second, his mind flirted with the idea that it must have been one hell of a night if he couldn’t remember a thing. But the next instant, sheer panic washed over him.
He never lost control. Startled, he sat up and glanced around. The old-fashioned wooden paneling, the meager furniture consisting of a single light-colored, lacquered dresser by the door, a matching coffee table, and two nightstands—all of it was completely unfamiliar. The worn, ocher blackout curtains, the round, orange lampshade, and the turquoise satin bedding with two decorative pillows that clashed horribly with the room’s color scheme filled him with dread. There’s no way he would bring anyone to a place like this—not even if he lost all self-control after an especially good date.
Wait a minute!
He hadn’t even made up with María José yet! Or had she actually accepted the dinner invitation after all?
Terrified, he turned his head toward the elderly woman. Was she even alive? He gave her shoulder a shake.
The retired pastry chef responded with a disgruntled groan.
“Thank God,” Carlos sighed.
He flung the blanket aside and leaped out of bed. He still hoped that some memory would come rushing back—a vague image, at least, of him and María José, drunk and giggling as they checked into some random roadside motel. But why hadn’t they just taken a taxi home? Where had they even been? And where were his clothes? There was nothing else in the room besides the furniture. His initial hope was quickly replaced by a choking sense of panic. He yanked open the dresser drawer in a frenzy. What he found there instantly crushed all remaining hope. He was in serious trouble.
Inside the drawer were his clothes—perfectly folded. He had never folded his clothes like that in his life, not even when they were clean. Let alone drunk and exhausted. Someone else had put them there. He picked up the pile. Underneath it were his keys, his phone, his passport, and his wallet. He frantically opened the leather wallet, though by then he already suspected that nothing would be missing. He tossed it back into the drawer, grabbed his clothes, hurriedly put them on, and rushed to the window. He yanked the curtain aside. A desperate groan escaped him.
He was in Bangkok.
Only then did it occur to him to check the door. In two quick steps, he was at the handle and slammed it down. It wasn’t locked. He stepped out onto the linoleum-covered hallway. He was about to start exploring when a terrifying thought struck him—what if he couldn’t get back into the room? He couldn’t just leave María José alone.
He had no idea how he would even begin to explain to the elderly woman where they were and why. He feared María José would break into hysterics the moment she heard the news.
Carlos stepped back into the room and pulled open the middle drawer of the dresser. As he’d suspected, it contained the pastry chef’s belongings. Folded just as neatly, with her phone, wallet, and apartment keys placed carefully beneath her clothes.
He sank onto the edge of the bed, utterly defeated.
He had no doubt that no harm would come to him.
Someone had just wanted to teach him a serious lesson.
And it had to be someone who knew everything about him—someone who knew that he was familiar with this city and could easily find his way home, even at his age. But María José’s presence was a subtle yet powerful threat. The woman would need an explanation. Someone wanted him to back off. But who? Was it because of Ted? Or the two Dutch guys?
He shook his head. He couldn’t imagine either of his neighbors pulling off something like this. And lately, they were the only people he’d crossed paths with enough to put himself in this kind of danger.