Hannah's Chance
Copyright© 2025 by jackmarlowe
Chapter 5
Rossi opened the door to his hotel suite almost immediately. He was wearing a silk robe and held a glass of whisky. He didn’t seem surprised to see Hannah. In fact he appeared to have been waiting for her arrival. “I knew you’d come,” he said, stepping aside to let her in. The suite was opulent, with panoramic views of Milan’s skyline. “You’re smarter than Maria gives you credit for.”
Hannah hesitated, unsure how to respond. He gestured for her to sit and offered her a drink. She sat down, but declined the drink. Rossi sat down opposite her.
“I hope you’re impressed with the Keller introduction,” he said, his tone smooth, almost indulgent. “Proof that I deliver, that I do what I say. If you and Maria play your cards right, there’s good business there for both of you.”
Hannah kept her gaze steady, refusing to be drawn in. “I’m here for Tanaka. And the scarab beetle.”
Rossi swirled his whisky, ice clinking. “Of course you are.” He leaned back, studying her. “Are you sure you won’t have that drink?”
Hannah shook her head, impatience flickering. “Just tell me what you know.”
Rossi smiled. “It’s very warm in here,” he countered. “Why not take your jacket off? When you’re feeling more comfortable we can talk about Tanaka.”
Hannah kept her jacket on. “The scarab beetle,” she pressed. “Who is he?”
Rossi sighed, setting his glass down. “You want to know everything, but don’t want to give anything in return.”
Hannah leaned forward, her voice low and urgent. “You offered Tanaka intel. Give me the scarab beetle’s identity, and I’ll ensure you get brokerage fees on Keller’s deal.”
Rossi smiled again. “You need to sit back and relax,” he said. “Take your jacket off and the conversation will flow more freely.”
Hannah knew she needed to act. She slid the jacket from her shoulders and draped it over the arm of a chair. “That’s better,” he murmured. “Now I’ve got encouragement to start talking.” She sat back and looked at him expectantly.
“The first thing you need to know is that Tanaka’s board is fractured. Half want to cut losses; half want radical reinvention.”
Hannah stayed silent, absorbing this. It explained the broker’s urgency.
“You’re no doubt dealing with Chen, their VP. But Chen can’t act without board approval and that isn’t forthcoming right now.”
Hannah nodded slowly. This aligned with Chen’s evasiveness during their Milan show encounter. “And the scarab beetle? I assume he’s their broker. Wouldn’t he need board approval too?”
Rossi’s smile sharpened. “Ah, that’s where you’re on the wrong path.” He let the silence stretch, savoring it.
Hannah fought the urge to lean closer. “Explain.”
“The scarab beetle isn’t their broker,” he said at last. “And he isn’t trying to broker a deal with you.”
Hannah froze. “Then who is he? And what does he want?”
“The scarab’s interest is certainly in Tanaka. But he doesn’t answer to the board. He isn’t bound by their factions or their indecision. He answers only to himself.” Rossi leaned back, swirling the whisky, letting the words hang like smoke. “That’s why he can demand proof from you so brazenly. Because if he’s convinced, he’ll make sure the board follows him.”
Hannah’s pulse quickened as she felt a surge of progress. Now she was really getting somewhere. “So he’s Tanaka’s shadow power? An advisor? A major shareholder?”
Rossi’s gaze swept over her, steady and unhurried. “Why don’t you make yourself even more comfortable? Before we continue.”
Hannah knew she had to keep him talking. Had to play his game.
She sat up, deliberately slow, and unbuttoned her blouse halfway, revealing the curve of her collarbone. Rossi’s eyes tracked the movement, but she kept her voice cool, detached. “Comfortable enough? Now tell me who he is.”
“You can do better than that,” he said softly.
Hannah unbuttoned the blouse fully, allowing it to hang open and revealing her bra. “His name,” she demanded.
“It isn’t his name you need to know. It’s the game he’s playing.” Hannah stayed motionless, waiting for more.
“The scarab isn’t a major shareholder in Tanaka. He’s - the - major shareholder.”
Hannah’s breath caught. The revelation rewrote everything. Tanaka Holdings was publicly traded, but Rossi implied concentrated private ownership. “How?”
Rossi hesitated. “You didn’t get this information from me, by the way.”
Hannah kept her gaze steady. “Of course not.”
“He operates through a labyrinth of shell companies. A hidden center of gravity.”
Hannah absorbed the implications. The scarab beetle wasn’t just influential. He - was - Tanaka. His demand for proof wasn’t a broker’s test, it was an owner’s audit. Her demo wasn’t a pitch, it was a lifeline. She sat very still, thinking it all through, her pulse racing despite the deliberate calm she was trying to project and her mouth suddenly felt very dry.
“Could I get a drink now?” she asked. “Water’s fine.” Rossi had been casting his eyes over her, but now he rose, the silk robe whispering against the leather sofa. He poured mineral water into a crystal tumbler, his movements unhurried.
Hannah sipped the water, reflecting that Rossi had been true to his word when he’d said that he didn’t waste people’s time. His information had changed everything regarding Tanaka, but she wasn’t finished with him yet. She knew he had more up his sleeve than he had divulged so far. She had to keep him talking.
“Why the secrecy?”
“Because if the market knew a single player held such a dominant position, it would spook other shareholders. With good reason. The scarab is considering dumping his entire holding and if that happened the Tanaka share price would go into free fall.”
Hannah’s mind raced even more than it had been. The scarab beetle wasn’t just testing her model, he was deciding whether to abandon ship entirely. Her demo could save Tanaka or trigger its collapse. “Why meet me anonymously? Why the masquerade?”
Rossi appeared hesitant, as though fearing saying too much. “Anonymity’s a habit for him. It’s how he operates.”
Hannah knew there was more. She sat up to put her tumbler down and then slipped her blouse from her shoulders, placing it over the jacket. A calculated concession to keep things moving.
Rossi’s eyes roved over her exposed skin. “He doesn’t trust you. He knows you’ve been talking to Chen.”
Hannah kept her expression neutral, but her mind raced again. The scarab beetle had eyes everywhere. “What else?”
“If Chen knows, the board knows, and he’s not ready for the board to know.” Rossi paused, his gaze lingering on the curve of her shoulder. “He’s been watching you. He knows you’re ambitious. He knows you’re ... adaptable.”
Hannah felt a chill despite the suite’s warmth. The scarab beetle hadn’t just appeared at the club - he’d orchestrated her invitation. He’d tested her resolve with the midnight meeting, then dangled the impossible Keller deadline to see how she’d react. “He set the trap with Keller,” she stated flatly. “The forty-eight-hour window. It was a stress test.”
Rossi nodded, a flicker of admiration in his eyes. “To see if you’d crumble or innovate. To see what you were made of.” His gaze dropped pointedly to her exposed skin. “You passed, by the way. Barely.” He paused for a moment. “Not being able to give him an immediate demo should have blown you out of the water, but you got away with it.”
Hannah ignored the implied compliment, her mind churning. The scarab beetle wasn’t just Tanaka’s owner; he was a puppeteer, pulling strings from the shadows. Her demo wasn’t just about proving her model, it was about proving - her. Her resilience. Her resourcefulness. Her ability to navigate chaos.
“And you?” she asked, her voice low. “Where do you fit in his game?”
Rossi’s smile turned predatory. “I’m the wild card he can’t control. The one who knows where the bodies are buried.” He leaned forward, the silk robe gaping slightly. “For instance, I know why he’s really testing you. It’s not just about Tanaka.”
Hannah held her ground, skin prickling. “Then what?”
Rossi’s gaze drifted lower. “Why not slip out of that skirt? You’re clearly not fully comfortable yet.” He paused, letting the silence thicken. “The scarab beetle doesn’t just want to salvage Tanaka. He wants to reshape it. And he thinks - you - might be the architect.”
Hannah’s fingers trembled slightly as she unzipped her skirt. She let it pool at her feet, standing in bra and panties under the suite’s harsh lights. The chilled nature of the conversation raised goosebumps on her skin, despite the warmth of the room. “Architect how?” she pressed, voice steady despite the vulnerability.
Rossi’s gaze lingered, seemingly fond of looking at her legs. “Tanaka’s core tech is becoming obsolete. The scarab sees potential in your predictive model not just to salvage value, but to pivot the entire company. He’s hunting for a visionary.” He paused, swirling his whisky. “But architects need leverage and your leverage expires if you fail the demo.”
Hannah’s mind raced. The scarab beetle wasn’t just evaluating her model, he was auditioning her for leadership. But that was an audition she just couldn’t pass. She just didn’t have the necessary experience. She might be the one on his radar, but she was going to need Alex’s analytical brilliance to get through the demo.
Hannah was still standing, lost in thought, and Rossi had resumed looking at her legs. The demo loomed large in her thinking and she tried to work out how to handle it.
“You can’t let the scarab suspect that you know any of this,” said Rossi suddenly. “If he suspects that you know who he is, he’ll walk away immediately.”
Hannah nodded slowly, the chill deepening. Every interaction with the scarab beetle had been a performance - and she hadn’t even known she was on stage. She stepped out of the skirt pooled around her ankles, leaving it on the floor as she moved toward the panoramic window. Milan’s skyline glittered below, indifferent to the high-stakes chess game unfolding inside the suite. Her reflection stared back - pale skin, dark circles under her eyes, the bra and panties making her look exposed yet strangely defiant. “Architect,” Rossi had said. The word echoed like a promise and like a threat. She wasn’t just pitching a model, she was auditioning to rebuild an empire. And failure might mean more than losing Tanaka, it might mean triggering its collapse.
Rossi’s voice cut through her thoughts, smooth as silk. “Remember when you meet the scarab, that you know nothing of what I’ve told you tonight. He’s just a mystery man as far as you’re concerned. Just another potential client.”
Hannah nodded, her eyes fixed on the city lights, the chill of the conversation sharpening her focus. Rossi knew too much - about Tanaka, about the scarab’s intentions, about her own ambitions. She turned slowly, meeting his gaze. “And what do you get out of sharing this? Besides the view.”
Rossi’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “That really would be telling.” He rose, closing the distance between them. His fingers brushed her bare arm, tracing a line from shoulder to wrist. “You’re standing at a crossroads, Hannah. Fail the demo and it’s an opportunity gone forever. Succeed and it’s a deal you’ll always be proud of.”
Hannah didn’t flinch. “You haven’t answered my question.”
Rossi’s hand lingered at her wrist. “I haven’t answered it yet. Stairs are meant to be taken one step at a time. First let’s deal with matters more immediately at hand. Time’s ticking down to the demo.”
Hannah pulled her eyes away from the window and walked back to her seat. “Well I don’t know how I’m going to handle the demo.”
Rossi sat opposite her again. “Why do you say that?”
“Because I need help from my office to get through it. But even then there are so many pitfalls, so many ways I could fall flat on my face. I’m not going to be able to answer every question he dreams up.”
“I’m sure we can work this out together,” said Rossi.
Hannah looked at him doubtfully. “How?”
“You just need to play your cards right. And make sure you’re playing with a full deck.”
Hannah leaned forward, elbows on knees, the chill of the problem forgotten under the heat of her focus. “What deck? I have Alex back in the office crunching numbers, but he’s an analyst, not a magician. The scarab will rip through assumptions I haven’t even considered.”
“I’ll tell you exactly how to handle it,” said Rossi. “First of all, sit back and relax.” He waited as she leaned back and added “and take your bra off for me.”
Hannah hesitated, weighing the cost against the prize. Rossi’s confidence swayed her, as it held the promise of salvation. She unhooked her bra and let it fall onto the sofa beside her. Rossi’s eyes gleamed at the sight of her bare breasts. He clearly relished the splendid view before him and made no attempt to hide his reaction.
“Now,” he began, leaning forward intently. “The scarab expects perfection? Give him vulnerability instead.” Hannah frowned, confused. Rossi explained: “Admit one flaw upfront, a minor assumption gap. It disarms him. Shows humility, not weakness.” Hannah nodded slowly, seeing the strategy, turn scrutiny into collaboration.
Rossi continued: “When he probes Tanaka’s liquidity crisis, pivot to their untapped patents. My own research shows three nearing expiration.” Hannah’s eyes widened - she hadn’t considered that angle. Rossi smirked. “Redirect. Always redirect. Make him see salvage where he sees sinking.”
Hannah’s mind raced, slotting Rossi’s insights into her strategy. The patents were Alex’s specialty - she’d need him working every minute possible before the demo. But Rossi wasn’t finished. “The scarab’s final trap?” He paused dramatically. “He’ll ask how your model handles catastrophic market shifts. Not theory. Specifics.”
Panic flickered across Hannah’s face. “I don’t have—”
“You do,” Rossi interrupted, his gaze drifting lower. “The Swiss biotech collapse Keller orchestrated? Feed that data into your model - live. Show him real-time adaptation.” He paused, letting the brilliance sink in. “It proves resilience and steals Keller’s thunder in one move.”
Hannah’s breath hitched. The solution was audacious, elegant. Using Keller’s own destruction to showcase her model’s strength. But doubt crept in. “Alex would need hours to reconfigure—”
“Tell him he’s got three,” Rossi cut in, eyes still tracing her bare skin. “Email him now. While I watch.” His demand hung thick, part of the price for salvation. Hannah hesitated, feeling rather too warm now despite sitting there in nothing but her panties. Outside, the city of Milan glittered in the night, indifferent to the drama unfolding in the suite. Inside, the clock screamed: “demo - at - six - this - evening, architect - or - ash.”
She reached for her phone, fingers trembling slightly as she typed a message to Alex. There was a lot to explain, but she tried to be as thorough as possible, so he understood everything that she needed from him. Rossi watched, taking the opportunity to openly ogle her beautiful breasts. He had plenty of time to do it now, as Hannah typed away, though her arms out in front of her, as she held the phone, did obscure the view to some extent. His gaze eventually drifted lower again.
Hannah pressed send, the message vanishing into the ether, the screen’s glow reflecting in her wide eyes. “Three hours,” echoed in her thoughts. “Alex would need every second.” She placed the phone face down on the sofa cushion, acutely aware of Rossi’s lingering stare. The suite felt suddenly smaller, the air thick with unspoken demands. She shifted, crossing her legs defensively, but the movement only drew his attention more sharply to the curve of her thigh, which was now nicely displayed.
Rossi leaned back, swirling his whisky. “Good. Now, the scarab’s weakness.” His voice dropped, conspiratorial. “He values audacity above perfection. He’s bored with yes-men.” He paused, letting the implication settle. “Challenge him. Politely, of course. Question one of his own premises during the demo. It’ll intrigue him.”
Hannah absorbed this, her mind racing. She’d spent weeks preparing deference, not defiance. “Which premise?” she asked, her voice low.
Rossi’s gaze didn’t waver from her body. “Tanaka’s Asian market dependence. Argue it’s a strength, not a liability. He’s been spooked by recent tariffs.” He paused, swirling his whisky. “But frame it as curiosity, not correction. Make him defend his own stance.” Hannah nodded slowly, filing the tactic away. Audacity, not arrogance.
The silence stretched, broken only by the faint hum of the city below. Rossi’s eyes traced the line where her panties met her hip. “We’re almost there,” he murmured. “Just one more thing you need to know.”
Hannah braced herself. “What?”
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