Unruffled, Bryson paused, his hands carrying the dishes. He looked up and offered a grin. “That’s fine. You bring in the money; I’ll find ways to spend it. I see no downside here.”
She had expected her words to provoke him, but his frank acceptance was unexpected.
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This left Hannah feeling somewhat deflated. She snorted, “A cleaner will come for the villa tomorrow. You don’t need to bother with any of this. Get some sleep-there’s a lot on our plate tomorrow. We can’t afford any delays.”
As Bryson set the dishes down, the sound of water running and his voice carried from the kitchen.
“Don’t worry. Your work won’t be delayed by me, Miss Moore.”
Returning from the kitchen, Bryson’s fingers were dotted with water.
He suggested, “You should head to bed early as well.”
Avoiding his gaze, Hannah turned toward the living room. “I’ve got other things to sort out. Better you hit the sack early.”
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The kitchen lights went out.
Passing the living room, Bryson saw Hannah seated on the sofa, her back to him.
Bryson raised his hand and retrieved his coat from the sofa. Neither of them spoke another word.
Only after Bryson had entered his room did Hannah turn to gaze at the closed door.
She yawned after a moment, shut her laptop, and headed upstairs.
Gradually, a deep silence enveloped the villa.
Suddenly, a figure disturbed the night’s stillness.
The door closed gently.
Standing at the door, Bryson looked toward the second floor in the darkness.
Upstairs was silent, illuminated only by the dim light from the staircase.
Bryson slipped out of Hannah’s villa, unnoticed.
“It’s our turn to stand guard. You guys go get some rest.”
During the night, a new set of bodyguards took their positions outside Wallace’s villa.
They knew each other well and exchanged greetings. “Why are you here so early today?”
“Mr. Compton wants us extra vigilant these next couple of days, probably because of what happened before.”
Their conversation faded into whispers.