Trent and Keith turned their gazes to Bryson simultaneously, brows furrowing in confusion.
Noticing their shared bewilderment, Bryson simply shrugged and Looked at Hannah.
Voicing the question on both their minds, Keith asked, “Why should we follow Bryson and not you?”
“Charlie knows the terrain there like the back of his hand. I have only been there once. I’ll take Dotson and a few other fighters to handle the situation downstairs.”
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She continued, “You will accompany Bryson and assist him in stirring up trouble upstairs. You are well-versed in this matter and did a commendable job last time.”
Keith’s lips twitched wryly. “So, we are just pawns, huh?”
Upon hearing this, Hannah shook her head. “I’m certain Father will catch wind of this once it’s all over. I can’t allow you to put yourselves in harm’s way. I’ll shoulder the blame if he gets upset.”
Trent reassured Hannah, saying, “Don’t worry. We are in this together. If Father decides to pursue it, we will share half of the responsibility.”
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As they conversed, Dotson and the others returned from outside.
“Boss, everything is set. Tonight, Kite and several others will head to the orphanage to take care of Amelie’s people,” Dotson reported.
Bryson said, “The K Group’s people will lend a hand tonight. Put on the bracelet. They will contact you through it to coordinate the plan and choose a suitable location.”
Bryson tossed the bracelet to Dotson.
Dotson smoothly caught it and passed it to Kite. “Thank you, Mr. Mitchell.”
Bryson acknowledged the gesture with a silent nod, his expression unreadable.
After a satisfying lunch, everyone dispersed for a well-deserved break. Bryson settled onto the sofa and closed his eyes to rest.
The cushion beside him suddenly dipped, prompting Bryson to peek through half-closed lids.
Sitting cross-legged beside him, Hannah opened the game interface.
Bryson couldn’t help but chuckle. “Are you planning to keep an eye on me while you play games?”
“Mr. Mitchell, you are overthinking. I just enjoy gaming on this sofa.”
Hannah clicked on the gaming interface without lifting her head.
Bryson knew she was still furious because she addressed him as Mr. Mitchell in a sarcastic tone.
“Why don’t you join me?”
Bryson leaned against the sofa, resting his hand on his forehead as he closed his eyes. “No, I think I’ll pass. I could use a bit more rest, so I’ll skip the game for now.”
In the quiet of the living room, the only sound was the sporadic blips and beeps from Hannah’s phone as she played her game.