Perhaps she had been staring a bit too “intensely,” because Bryson abruptly opened his eyes, meeting her gaze with a soft grin.
Realizing she had been caught staring, Hannah quickly blinked and moistened her dry lips.
Yet, she couldn’t hold back, lifting her intrigued gaze to query, “Mr. Mitchell, is it possible that we… Knew each other long ago?”
Bryson’s eyes momentarily wavered, as if he were about to respond.
Suddenly, a knock interrupted them at the door!
The resonant echo of a knock intruded into Hannah’s reverie, abruptly yanking her from her contemplation. Swiftly, she averted her gaze, inclining her head.
“Enter.” Bryson’s voice eventually emanated.
Yosef made his entrance, positioning himself beside Bryson and, in a hushed tone, he conveyed, “Boss, I’ve ascertained that the individuals responsible for Miss’s abduction are Travis Nixon’s men.
And furthermore…”
Yosef momentarily hesitated, casting a furtive glance in the direction of Hannah, reclined on the bed, before halting his discourse.
Bryson’s gaze delved into profound contemplation.
“Continue.”
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“Those malefactors that the ladies encountered earlier today were also orchestrated by Travis. Our intent in venturing here revolved around securing that coveted piece of real estate in Cityscape Gardens. Their operatives have cast their covetous gaze upon it as well. With the deal now sealed, they perceive it as an affront and it appears retribution is their foremost objective.”
Yosef’s voice dwindled further, almost a whisper.
“Boss, should we..
Bryson’s eyes turned icy, his tone devoid of emotion.
“Gather compelling evidence and submit it to the local authorities.”
Comprehending his boss’s unspoken directive, Yosef nodded and then inclined his head in the direction of Hannah.
“Boss, Miss Moore should retire early. I shall not disrupt her further.”
As Yosef departed, Bryson’s phone abruptly chimed. He retrieved it and deliberately lowered his voice, inquiring, “What’s the matter?”
“That shrewd individual, Nigel Kelly, suddenly extended an invitation, asserting a banquet scheduled for tomorrow where the contract shall be formally signed.”
Brayden, on the other end of the line, was idly flipping a butterfly knife, casually leaning against a sofa.
“He’s had a change of heart, given your absence this evening, unwilling to proceed without your presence.”
Bryson pinched the bridge of his nose, his words laced with nonchalance.