"What do you mean we can't enter?"
The voice cut through the air like a blade—loud, angry, and accented. Though he spoke in English, it was clear from the sharp edges and lilting vowels that it wasn't his first language.
Inside the glittering lobby of The Ritz-Carlton, Riyadh, chaos was unfolding. A cluster of seven individuals had gathered around the reception desk, their frustration mounting by the second. At the center of their attention was a young receptionist, standing firm behind the polished marble counter. Despite the growing tension and the stern looks aimed her way, she maintained her composure with the kind of professional calm only years of elite hospitality experience could provide.
"I'm terribly sorry for the inconvenience," she said, her voice even and rehearsed. "But I've been instructed not to allow anyone access to floors four through nine."
A murmur rippled through the group.
"What? Is something wrong?" another person asked, clearly annoyed.
