The waiter respectfully asked, "Mr. Sterling, the left side is the presidential suite, the right side is a regular room, which side would you like?"
His voice was very soft, almost as if afraid to disturb the tranquility of the floor. His fingers trembled slightly as he held the room card, eyes cautiously observing Tristan Sterling's expression.
Tristan was on the phone with his assistant and casually replied, "The left."
The assistant's urgent report came from the other end while Tristan listened to the financial report issue with a furrowed brow. He pointed towards the corridor on the left indifferently, his tone cold with no unnecessary emotional fluctuation.
"Alright, please go ahead."
The waiter swiped the card, and the door clicked open.
