Hannah eyed Caleb sharply. “Is Bryson here too?”
Caleb hesitated, not daring to lie. He glanced towards the suite and admitted, “Yes… Mr. Mitchell is in there…”
He had barely finished speaking when Hannah walked briskly toward the suite.
Caleb promptly went after her.
Bryson, lounging with closed eyes, snapped them open as the door swung open.
Standing there, Hannah’s gaze landed on Bryson’s bare chest and the blood-stained bandage wrapped around his waist.
Her brow furrowed in concern. “It’s been quite some time. What happened to you? You’re a mess!” she exclaimed.
Bryson, caught off guard by Hannah’s presence on the ship, blurted out, “What are you doing here?”
Hannah walked over and took a seat, her eyes fixed on the wound on Bryson’s abdomen. “That’s my question for you. Why are you here, looking like this? Didn’t you say you weren’t going to die?”
Resting against the headboard, Bryson quirked an eyebrow. “I guess I’m not dying just yet, am I?”
Noticing Caleb lingering in the room, Bryson instructed, “Caleb, could you step outside and keep an eye out?”
“Of course, Mr. Mitchell.”
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Once Caleb left, a brief silence filled the room.
Bryson, attempting to lighten the mood, cracked a smile. “Am I being too vain to think you came here worried about me after finding out where I was?”
Hannah shot him a cold look. “It seems to me it’s your head that’s injured, not your abdomen.”
“Why are you here now?” Bryson questioned.
“I didn’t come for you, but for someone else.” Hannah hesitated, then added, “I didn’t expect to bump into you. Have you upset someone important on this ship? Why are you hiding and avoiding people?”
Bryson smirked. “Impressive, you noticed.”
“Is it Rodrigo Wilde you’ve crossed?” Hannah asked.
Seeing Bryson’s expression shift, she nodded. “You did, didn’t you?
I doubt they can really harm you, though.”
Bryson furrowed his brow. “You’ve clashed with them? Why?”
Hannah shrugged it off. “They wanted to inspect our room without permission, so we resisted. Luckily, it didn’t escalate.”