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?”

walked over and took a seat, her eyes fixed on the wound

question for

this? Didn’t you say you

the headboard, Bryson

dying

Caleb lingering in the room, Bryson instructed, “Caleb, could you step outside and keep an

“Of course, Mr.

Mitchell.

left, a brief

to lighten the mood, cracked

here worried about me after finding

shot him a

it’s your head that’s injured, not

you here now?” Bryson

for you, but for

hesitated, then added, “I didn’t expect

important on this ship? Why are

Bryson smirked.

“Impressive, you noticed.

it Rodrigo Wilde you’ve crossed?” Hannah

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