A/N- I own nothing and am almost done setting the scene

When I stepped into the foyer, my bravery turned into foolishness. I laughed out loud, breaking the reverent silence. Mr Cataliades and Diantha turned to look back at me, wearing expressions of understanding and exasperation, I blush realising that I'd attracted the attention of the passing tourists and tour guide. The camera wielding, high socked tourists' glare angrily at my rudeness, I hurry to keep step with Mr Cataliades as we move further into the gothic church.

Because that's exactly what the foyer of the hotel looked like- a church.

Large bluestone walls rose high and disappeared into the darkness, the only light coming from flaming torches, bouncing off the polished floorboards and pews pressed against the walls. In the middle stood a pulpit with a clerk standing behind it, he glances at me with brief annoyance and then looks up again more intently this time. He's a clear broadcaster so unfortunately I hear his thoughts,

'Young, tanned pretty faced blonde with big tits, this must be the woman Mr de Castro wanted me to watch out for'

Yes I know everyone's entitled to their own opinions, particularly in their own head but I'm getting mighty sick and tired of my hair and breasts being the main description for the numerous people searching for me sight unseen. Then again, I muse, Southern or politely mannered, isn't something that can be seen and not heard.

"Mr Cataliades, Miss Diantha and Miss Stackhouse I presume?" he greets pleasantly and I hang back, happy to let my guards/protectors handle the small details. I look around the large room curiously, surprised by the lack of doors or space; certainly it appeared more spacious on the outside.

Then I hear a loud grinding noise and turn towards the source, my eyes going wide as I see small portion of the wall, about ten feet begin to move aside, reminding me of the sliding doors in supermarkets. The tourist's go mad; taking photos like an alien had landed in the middle of the foyer. A bellboy steps through the gap and I crane my neck to see a hallway with dull gold walls and plush scarlet carpeting, the door remains open but the tour guide is quick to advise the tourists that it a strict no-go area.

"Of course while the main entrance to the Mira Casino and Hotel of the prestigious Felipe de Castro is open to the public, unfortunately the entertainment and hotel areas, all five star and boasting world renowned luxuries are kept from the public eye and are rather exclusive"

I listened with half an ear, somehow managing to feel curious, then I sense the clerk at my arm,

"Shall I escort you to your suite mademoiselle?"

I smile at him politely, from what I can tell he didn't seem too wicked, his head was full of the usual professional thoughts, determined to do as his boss asked of him.

"Thank-you"

With that he leads me across the foyer, past the tourists, some of them raising their cameras to snap my photo assuming that I must be someone important to be staying at such an exclusive hotel.
Well I am, but not in their world.

As we pass over the threshold I look to where the wall had slid into- and I had guessed correctly, here the stones were thinner, acting as an outer layer for a metallic surface, probably full of wires and other electrical things.
A plain surface but dark and complex underneath.

Just like Felipe de Castro himself.

The carpet was as plush and as soft as I imagined it to be, it was probably the best carpet in the world, made somewhere in Tibet by blind monks or something just as extravagant.

Nothing but the best for those in Felipe de Castro's favour.

No doors either it appeared, halfway down the hall we stopped and faced a blank wall, with the sounding of a bell it slid open, revealing an elevator. I was led on and the clerk waved a card before a panel. It flashed green and we began to move up, I looked at the buttons and found them to be long with explanations. The day spa had an entire floor to itself, as did the swimming pool; sporting area and the casino had three!

I guessed that the higher we rose the more exclusive it got; I was starting to feel fidgety as my ears popped. I wondered how much longer we had; there was no indicator in the elevator when suddenly we came to a slow halt. The elevator opened and we were in a short hallway, only three metres between us and an intricately decorated dark old and gold fringed door. I looked about curiously, wondering why there wasn't any other door; I figured this one must open to a hallway. The clerk waved his card at a panel where the door knob should have been and it swept open.

I stopped three steps into the room.

"Where am I?" I demand, looking to the clerk furiously. Fortunately I could tell that he was surprised by my lack of knowledge.

"Felipe de Castro's private suite," he told me politely, "As I was instructed, you shall be staying here with him"