Vanessa had never inserted it.
She had simply picked it up, examined it briefly, and declared it suspicious.
Elias looked back at her.
“Have you attempted to process it?”
“I'm not wasting our system's time on something obviously counterfeit.”
“What makes it obvious?”
Her face reddened.
Then she leaned forward.
“Sir, this property charges eighteen thousand dollars per night for our presidential suite.”
“I know.”
She smiled with open contempt.
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Because our guests don't usually arrive with a card that looks like something purchased from a novelty website.”
Several people nearby turned.
A woman standing beside a luggage cart frowned.
An elderly couple stopped speaking.
And a young hotel employee behind the secondary reception station slowly lowered the document she had been reading.
Elias remained calm.
“Did you verify my reservation?”
Vanessa crossed her arms.
“Your reservation is under review.”
“Why?”
“Because I have concerns about your payment method.”
“Concerns you haven't tested.”
She tilted her head.
“Sir, I have worked in luxury hospitality for nine years. I know when someone is attempting to take advantage of a property.”
Elias looked toward her name badge.
“Then nine years of experience should have taught you to verify information before accusing a guest.”
The words struck her.
Her smile disappeared.
“Excuse me?”
“You've made a serious allegation without processing the card, checking the issuing institution, or confirming my reservation.”
She stared.
Then laughed bitterly.
“Oh, you're one of those.”
Elias frowned slightly.
“One of what?”
“A guest who thinks arguing loudly will make the hotel give him special treatment.”
He looked around the lobby.
Then back at her.
“Which one of us is raising their voice?”
For a moment, she seemed unable to answer.
Then her face hardened.
“Don't get clever with me.”
She picked up the black card.
For one brief second, Elias believed she might finally examine it properly.
Instead, she brought it down against the marble counter with a sharp slap.
The sound cut through the lobby.
A little girl standing beside her mother jumped.
Several guests turned completely toward the desk.
Vanessa pushed the card back toward Elias.
“Take your fake card and leave.”
For the first time, his expression changed.
Not into anger.
Into something quieter.
Disappointment.
He looked at the card.
Then at the hotel manager.
“Vanessa, I am going to give you one opportunity to correct this.”
She laughed.
“Oh, really?”
“Yes.”
“Or what?”
He folded his hands on the counter.