Henry slammed his fist on the table, shooting an intense glare at Lydia.
“I’m telling you, if something screws up with our company, Dad is going to unleash hell on you!”
Lydia shot back, unfazed.
“Really? I doubt it. If the company goes haywire, it’s going to be you Dad will lay the blame on.”
A mischievous grin played on Lydia’s lips.
“Anyway, I just signed a contract. Looks like you’re the one in hot water now.”
When he couldn’t retaliate to Lydia’s words, Henry huffed and turned on his heels, storming out of the room.
Once the last person vacated the meeting room, Lydia wasted no time dialing up Hannah.
“The contract has been signed! And I even managed to ruffle Henry’s feathers. I consider this one a_ success.
Celebratory dinner on me tonight for you and Brayden!”
“Sure thing,” Hannah replied.
After hanging up the phone, Hannah shot a prolonged look at the ointment that had just arrived.
Meanwhile, Bryson was knee-deep in his computer tasks when an unexpected knock echoed through his room.
He got up and ambled to the door, swinging it open to find Hannah standing there, of all people.
His eyebrows practically hit the ceiling as he quizzically asked, “What’s up?”
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“This is the medicine from the Research Institute. Custom-made for your wounds. Use it, and surely, no scars, no irritations. It’s Like a healing wizard in a tiny box.” Hannah dumped the small medicine case into Bryson’s hand and made a swift exit.
“Is this Like, specially made for me?” Bryson, intrigued, inquired.
Without turning around, Hannah deadpanned, “Don’t flatter yourself.
Your arm was injured because of me, so I can’t just let it fester.”
“Well, in that case, how about lending me a hand? I can’t exactly apply this myself.” Bryson grinned.
Hannah shot back, “Yosef’s around, right? Let him tend to your wound.
No effort required on your part.”
“He’s got his hands full lately. Been playing nurse to myself these past couple of days,” Bryson explained.
About to lay down a snarky remark, Hannah halted as she glanced at Bryson’s outstretched arm.