Page 30 of Conning Her Dragonkin Boss

I let out a half-laugh, half-disbelieving sigh as I zip up my suitcase, double-checking the costumes carefully folded inside. “Not only am I actually going to the convention, but I’m going for free.”

“I told you this plan was flawless.” Mei leans forward, eyes sparkling. “Remind me again how you’re pulling this off.”

I flop onto my bed, staring at the ceiling in pure, unfiltered disbelief. “Okay, so first of all—I’m staying at the luxury hotel literally across the street from the convention.”

Mei gasps dramatically. “The one with the skybridge? The one with the rooftop pool and 24-hour room service?”

“Yes,” I groan. “The exact one I couldn’t afford. I had to cancel my original booking because the company comped my entire stay.”

“Amazing.”

“And because I booked through the corporate portal, I didn’t even have to pay for airfare. Just zipped through the company’s portal system like an executive.”

Mei flops back into her gaming chair, cackling. “Sunny, you are literally living my dream.”

“I am living my dream,” I whisper, staring at my suitcase in awe.

Mei’s grin turns sly. “And let’s not forget who made this possible.”

I roll my eyes. “Khanner did not do this for me. This is a business trip.”

Mei wiggles her eyebrows. “Uh-huh. Just a business trip. That’s why he sent you home early yesterday and personally made sure you’re taken care of, right?”

I wave her off. “I was sick. It was professional concern.”

“Sure, sure. Professional concern.” She smirks. “And where’s he staying?”

I pause.

Because I actually don’t know.

I assumed he’d be in the same hotel, but now that I think about it… he never actually said.

Mei laughs at my sudden silence. “Oh, babe. You are in so much denial.”

“I’m not,” I insist, checking my carry-on bag for the third time. “I’m just grateful.”

“For your boss.”

“For my free trip,” I correct.

Mei just laughs.

I knew this hotel was going to be nice, but stepping into the lobby is like stepping into another world.

The chandeliers glow softly, casting golden light over the polished black marble floors. The air smells expensive—a mix of fresh linen, vanilla bean, and a hint of something warm and spiced.

I barely have a chance to take it in before a staff member takes my bags.

Before I can protest, a familiar deep voice rumbles, “Don’t lift a finger, Sunny.”

I turn to find Khanner standing beside me, looking as effortlessly composed as ever in his dark suit, golden eyes sharp.

“I can handle my own things,” I say, crossing my arms.

His gaze flicks over me, unimpressed. “You’re still recovering.”

I scowl. “I feel fine.”

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