The Return Of Franklin Miles

CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTEEN

Franklin Miles sat in one of the grand lounges of the Empire State Hotel, the soft hum of distant conversations and the faint clinking of glasses filling the air. The room, with its polished wooden accents and gleaming chandeliers, had become a familiar space to him over the past two weeks. The once-bustling corporate life he had known was now a memory, replaced by this more subdued, but no less challenging role of running a hotel that was transforming faster than he could have ever anticipated.

Mr. Hughes walked in, carrying a thick stack of reports under his arm. Franklin noticed the way the older man moved—purposeful, steady, and always slightly hunched over, as though carrying the invisible weight of the hotel on his back. Hughes had been a pillar of reliability for Franklin, and it was thanks to his guidance that the hotel had started to thrive.

"Franklin," Hughes said, his tone carrying both respect and familiarity. He placed the stack of papers on the large oak table between th