The bodyguards exchanged a glance, one of them chuckling Lightly.

“Miss Moore, please don’t put us in a tough spot.

We’re just the messengers.

Mr.

Mitchell Likely intended this as a surprise.

“Oh?” Raising her eyebrows in mild surprise, Hannah regarded the bouquet in her hand.

“Alright, I’ll take this as a surprise then.

Just give me a moment to change my outfit, and I’ll be ready to go,” she told the bodyguards, ushering them to wait.

Once inside, Hannah set the flowers aside and eagerly unwrapped the gift box to reveal a delicate golden necklace adorned with a Luminous pearl, designed to enhance her elegance.

Slipping the necklace around her neck, she selected a gray silk dress that shimmered under the room’s lighting, casting a refined glow that contrasted sharply with her more vibrant demeanor of the past year.

With her hair styled into a chic updo, she applied a touch of makeup, achieving a look that was both dignified and fashionable.

Accompanied by the bodyguards, Hannah made her way to the reserved restaurant.

Upon arrival, the chime of the doorbell announced their entry.

The bodyguards pushed the door open and stepped aside, clearing the path for her.

Inside, Hannah’s eyes were drawn to a tall, commanding figure seated at the piano, his presence dominating the softly Lit ambiance of the restaurant.

A N G E L A ‘s L I B R A R Y

Bryson was clad in a sleek silver-gray suit that serendipitously complemented Hannah’s outfit for the evening.

His profile was striking, and Hannah recognized him immediately as she entered.

As she approached, the smooth, melodious sound of piano music emanated from Bryson’s skilled fingers, setting a serene backdrop.

Hannah’s gaze lingered on his side profile, watching his slender, fair fingers glide across the black and white keys, their movement resembling a scene from an elegant oil painting.

She squinted slightly, her smile broadening.

It had been a long time since she had witnessed such a comforting scene, and the warmth of the moment nearly swept her away into a trance.

Bryson felt her gaze on him and turned, his eyes soft with affection.

He ceased playing and gestured for her to come closer.

“Come here,” he invited warmly.

With a light step and a smile, Hannah approached the piano, playfully pressing a piano key.

“Mr.

Mitchell, you seem in high spirits today.

Did you invite me here just to enjoy your performance?”

Bryson scooted over, making room for her beside him.

“Sit.

“I don’t really play,” she admitted, yet she sat down next to him regardless.

“Let me teach you,” he offered, taking her hand gently and placing it on the keys.

Seated so closely, Hannah could catch the subtle, fresh scent emanating from Bryson, not overpowering but distinctly captivating.

His deep, resonant voice filled the quiet space around them.

“I learned to play the piano for my mother,” he said, his fingers moving delicately over the keys.

“She taught me just like this.

This was the first piece she taught me.

I haven’t played since she passed away.

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