“Do you really think Hannah would leave my fantastic brother for you, a fool and unsightly old man?”
Hannah stood to the side, her eyes widening in surprise at Grace’s sudden intensity.
Speechless and humiliated, the man grew pale and shaky, pleading with Bryson, “Mr. Mitchell, I was… ensnared, I suppose…”
With a gaze as icy as a frozen lake, Bryson sent shivers down the man’s spine.
Bryson announced, “Effective immediately, the Wood family will have no business in Valmere.”
The man’s face contorted, his eyes wide with disbelief.
“Mr. Mitchell!
I see the error of my ways. I swear, it won’t happen again! I implore you, Mr. Mitchell, give me another chance!”
As if suddenly recalling something, the man turned to Hannah and begged, “Miss Moore, could you please convince Mr. Mitchell to let me off the hook? I swear I’ll never do it again!”
Hannah stood aloof, observing the pitiful man on the floor but offering no words.
Bryson made a subtle hand gesture, and the security personnel immediately escorted the man out.
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The crowd outside slowly dispersed, their eyes following the unfolding drama.
Grace sensed her brother Bryson wanted a private word with Hannah, so she quietly stepped away.
“Let me see your wrist.”
The usually stoic Bryson seemed to soften in Hannah’s presence.
Hannah lifted her hand, glimpsed the discolored spot from the earlier grab, and tried to pull away.
“It’s nothing, really.”
Catching her hand as she retreated, Bryson’s brow furrowed.
“You’re bruised.”
“It’s no big deal, just a minor bruise. I’m alright. Mr. Mitchell, there’s something strange about that man. I didn’t see him follow me up.”
Though engrossed in Hannah’s injured wrist, Bryson acknowledged her concern with a nod.
“We’ll review the security footage soon and find out what’s going on.”
For Bryson, Hannah’s well-being was the top priority, above all else.
“Let’s first get that bruise treated.”