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The man’s expression shifted from menace to confusion, then to dark amusement. “FakeHostel? The porn site?”
“You saw nothing,” he growled, turning the key over. “But since you’re here…” He gestured to the cash. “You think I’m stupid? You think this is a hostel ?”
She didn’t ask why. She just ran.
He stared at her for a long moment. Then he laughed—a dry, ugly sound. “Well, Billie Star. Your honest mistake just became my problem. Because if you’re real, and this place has cameras…” He looked up at the ceiling, spotting a tiny red light in the smoke detector. “Then we’re both on tape.”
Her blood chilled. Greg had sent her to the wrong floor. This wasn’t the fake setup. This was real. FakeHostel - Billie Star - An Honest Mistake -2...
Because some honest mistakes aren’t mistakes at all. And some hostels… are exactly what they say they are.
“What other room?” Billie whispered. The man’s expression shifted from menace to confusion,
He took a step forward. The floorboard groaned. “There is no Room 7. Not on this floor.”
It was a man she’d never seen before—a mountain of a man with a shaved head, a thick neck, and a tattoo of a coiled snake slithering up his left arm. He was holding a roll of duct tape. On the bed behind him, a duffel bag was open, spilling out bundles of cash. “But since you’re here…” He gestured to the cash
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