Hannah was already drifting off to sleep when the pounding on her door jolted her awake.
Heart racing, she sat bolt upright in bed.
As someone who spooked easily, living alone at night already left her on edge—who could be knocking so violently at this hour?
She threw on a robe, switched on every light in the apartment, and crept to the peephole.
The sight of those piercing eyes and stern face made her gasp.
Hesitating whether to open the door, she heard Lucas resume his rhythmic knocking, now forceful enough to wake the neighbors.
She couldn't risk their complaints.
"Um... President Marson, President Drake?
What brings you both here?"
Hannah had never warmed to Drake, initially dismissing him as a playboy.
But after that night's events, her impression had flipped completely—she'd even become something of a fan.
Yet the icy intensity on his face now sent a shiver down her spine, making her pull her robe tighter.
"Is Beauty here?"
