Ryan followed Alina into her house upstairs, his eyes scanning the place the moment she pushed open the door. He didn't even wait for her to finish her little "welcome gesture" before stepping in with quiet, sharp attention, like a man sent on a mission.
Alina blinked, closed the door behind them, and tilted her head, wondering if she had accidentally invited a property dealer instead of Maya's neighbor.
Ryan walked in slowly, hands tucked into his pockets, his gaze moving across the room. His footsteps echoed faintly against the wooden flooring, steady, deliberate. He paused in the living room, his lips tightening as though calculating something. Then, without a word, he moved toward the sofa, lowered himself down, and pressed his palm lightly against the cushion, testing. After that, he leaned back, crossed one leg over the other, and gave a firm bounce with his shoulder blades as if assessing how comfortable the backrest was.
Alina stood near the doorway, arms folded, eyebrows shooting upward. What is this? A house tour or an audition for "World's Pickiest Guest"? She thought.
Next, Ryan stood up, his height casting a light shadow across the room. He walked toward the bed in the corner of her room. Alina followed him like someone watching a movie unfold. He pressed a hand on the mattress, then sat down on its edge. The springs creaked faintly under his weight. He leaned forward, pressed both palms, then shifted back and even gave it a tiny bounce. His face stayed serious, as though he were testing royal bedding for some king.
Alina whispered inside her head, biting her lip to stop herself from laughing. Is his "friend"coming over or the president of the country? Who checks a bed like it's a five-star suite evaluation?
Ryan stood again, his movements precise, his eyes darting toward the television mounted on the wall. Without asking, he picked up the remote, switched it on, and stared at the display. He flicked through channels quickly, nodding once, like confirming that reception was fine. Then he switched it off and placed the remote neatly back in its exact spot.
Alina blinked again. Her inner monologue was running wild. Next what? He'll open my fridge to check the cooling level? Or call for a Wi-Fi speed test?
As if to confirm her suspicion, Ryan strode toward the bathroom. He opened the door, stepped inside, and scanned everything: the sink, the mirror, the shower curtain. He even leaned forward to twist the tap slightly, letting water flow for a second before nodding as if satisfied. Then he checked the flush button with the same seriousness.
When he stepped out, Alina was waiting with her hands on her hips, staring at him with narrowed eyes.
"You're checking things as if…" she said, pausing dramatically, "…as if the Prime Minister himself is coming to stay here."
Ryan smirked faintly but didn't answer directly. His sharp eyes softened for a fraction, but then he hid it under his usual calmness. He slipped his hands back into his pockets, walking past her again into the living room.
Alina shook her head, still in disbelief. This man… his friend must either be a high-profile client or some extremely fussy fellow. Otherwise, why would Ryan behave like a professional inspector?
Inside Ryan's mind, however, thoughts were sharper, quieter. Good. The bed is sturdy, the sofa comfortable. The ceiling is high enough that Kai won't need to lower his head while passing. The bathroom's clean. TV works. This place might just be the perfect cover. Even if he doesn't find comfort in it, we will change according to him.
He didn't say it aloud. To Alina, he simply looked like someone who was overdoing it. But Ryan was thorough for Kai Arden; everything had to be perfect.
Alina finally threw her hands up. "Are you done inspecting for VIP?" she teased, leaning against the wall with an amused smile. "Or should I bring you a checklist so you can tick off things one by one?"
Ryan glanced at her, the corner of his mouth twitching as though he almost smiled. Almost. "Just making sure," he said calmly, walking back to the sofa and sitting down as if he owned the place.
Alina's jaw dropped a little. Making sure? she thought. Of what? That this isn't a haunted house?
She sighed dramatically, sat across from him, and muttered under her breath, "Seriously… this guy and his mysterious 'friend'."
Ryan leaned back, his eyes half-closed, but inside his mind, one thought lingered:
Yes. This might just work for Kai.
Alina tilted her head and folded her arms. "So? Inspection report?" she asked in mock seriousness.
Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Not bad."
"Not bad?" Alina scoffed. "You sat on the bed, bounced on it like a five-year-old, tested my sofa like you were shortlisting it for a furniture magazine, and ran a tap test in my bathroom. After all that, all I get is "not bad?"
Ryan smirked faintly, his lips curling for half a second before flattening back into his usual calm expression. "Would you prefer a star rating?"
"Yes!" Alina shot back, leaning forward dramatically. "One star, two stars, five stars… or maybe you'll give me some hotel-style feedback like: 'The bed was moderately soft but the TV lacked international channels.'"
Ryan chuckled under his breath but didn't indulge too much. He leaned back on the sofa, crossing his arms casually. "Comfortable. Clean. Quiet neighborhood. That's all that matters."
Alina narrowed her eyes. "You sound like you're filling out an Airbnb review."
She tilted her head curiously. Ryan had already moved on, distracting himself by tapping his fingers lightly against the armrest.
"Hmm." She leaned closer, resting her chin on her palm. "It looks like you're checking this house for yourself rather than your friend."
Ryan immediately shook his head, hiding the truth with a practiced calm. "Not me. A friend."
Alina arched an eyebrow. "A friend?"
"Yes."
"Some very special friend, I assume," she said, voice playful. "Because no normal person gets a personal house-inspector service from Ryan."
Ryan gave her a side glance, his jaw tightening slightly. He didn't deny it, but he didn't confirm it either. Alina caught that tiny shift and smirked knowingly. So he won't say anything. Fine. Let's poke him a little more.
"Tell me honestly," she said, leaning back and stretching her arms. "Is your friend a politician?Or maybe…" She snapped her fingers dramatically. "…the President?"
Ryan's lips twitched. "Not even close."
Alina gasped in mock shock. "Wait, don't tell me it's a secret agent! That explains the way you checked the bathroom. Looking for hidden cameras, weren't you?"
Ryan couldn't help it; he actually smiled, a short, low chuckle. He rubbed the back of his neck, shaking his head. "You've got too much imagination."
"And you've got too many secrets," she replied smoothly, grinning.
Alina noticed his silence and leaned forward again, resting her elbows on her knees. "Fine, don't tell me. But your face gives you away, you know. You're not half as expressionless as you think."
Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"
"Yes, really." She grinned. "Like just now—you almost smiled when I said you were inspecting for hidden cameras."
He looked away, biting down a laugh. "Almost doesn't count."
Alina gasped theatrically. "Oh-ho! So you admit it!"
Ryan shook his head slowly, clearly regretting engaging with her at all. Finally, she leaned back with a satisfied sigh. "Well, Mr. Secretive, your friend is lucky. Not everyone gets my house inspected and certified by you."
Ryan tilted his head, meeting her gaze with a calm, almost unreadable expression. "Yeah. He is lucky."
Ryan stood up, slipping his hands into his pockets again. "Where's the balcony?" he asked casually, changing the subject.
Alina blinked, shook off the strange feeling, and quickly pointed toward the sliding door. "Over there. But don't tell me you're going to check the wind pressure too."
Ryan smirked faintly. "Maybe."
Ryan stepped onto the balcony, testing the railing carefully with his fingers, leaning slightly to gauge its sturdiness. The sun fell at an angle, casting a golden glow over the terrace. He crouched down to check the tiles, tapping lightly to listen for any hollow sounds. Alina was behind him, arms folded, smirking as she watched him.
"So…" she said, tilting her head, "what's the verdict? Balcony safe enough for hosting parties?
Ryan didn't look up. "Sturdy. Tiles solid. Railing can hold ..well, me." He gave a faint smirk but quickly returned to his inspection.
Before Ryan could answer, a sharp, high-pitched voice cut through the air.
"What are you two doing on my balcony?!"
They both jumped. Ryan straightened up instantly, eyes narrowing slightly, scanning for the intruder. There she was, peering over her thick spectacles, emerged the old lady. She planted her hands on her hips, giving them both a look that could drill holes in steel.
"And who is this young man?" she demanded, eyes darting between Ryan and Alina.
Both of them rushed down to the old lady. Her eyes were on both of them as they were descending the stairs. Ryan immediately straightened, stepping forward politely. "I'm here to see the room."
"Ah! So you're going to be her roommate?" Granny turned to Alina, eyes wide, voice rising slightly in excitement.
Alina opened her mouth to clarify, "No, I—"
But Ryan held up a hand and interrupted smoothly, "My friend. I'm just here to see. Nothing else."
Granny squinted, clearly unconvinced. "Friend, eh? Why would a friend come to see the room? Normally, the person moving in does the inspecting. Are you… an agent or something?"
Ryan's jaw twitched, but he held back a smile. "No, it's not like that. I'm just… helping him check things out. To make sure it's suitable."
"Hmm…" Granny folded her arms and looked at him with suspicion, then at Alina, who was trying hard not to burst into laughter. "So let me get this straight—you, young man, are inspecting the room for… a friend, who isn't even here? And you want me to believe this without question?"
Alina's muffled giggles from behind him made it difficult. "If it's okay with you, I'll inform him. If he likes it, he'll shift here."
Granny blinked. "Inform him? Are you like a professional agent? Do you come with a badge and a clipboard?"
"No, Aunty," Ryan said with perfect deadpan. "No badge. No clipboard. Just… highly trained instincts."
Alina snorted, trying to cover her mouth. "Highly trained instincts, Granny! He even tests railings and tile strength, I swear."
Granny turned to Ryan, wagging a finger at him. "Tile strength? Railings? Young man, you're not buying the house for yourself, are you?"
Ryan shook his head, still deadpan. "No, Aunty. But I take my friend's safety very seriously. His life could depend on a balcony railing."
Alina nearly doubled over laughing. "Your friend? wow…"
Ryan didn't respond, but his eyes flicked toward her, and the corner of his mouth twitched.
Granny threw her hands in the air. "I've been living in this building for fifty years! Never have I seen someone so serious about a balcony! And inspecting the bathroom too, I suppose?"
"Checked the bathroom," Ryan said simply.
Granny gasped dramatically. "My goodness! And I thought young people today only care about wifi signals and Instagram posts!"
Alina was now laughing outright. "See, granny? He's serious! He inspects for… everything. Even hidden cameras, probably!"
Granny chuckled, shaking her head. "Well, at least someone's thorough! And I suppose your friend will be very lucky to have such a… meticulous roommate."
Ryan straightened, voice calm but amused, "Yes. Very lucky."
Granny shook her head, then turned back to Alina. "Now, let's get back inside. I need my tea, and you, young man, must finish your inspection before I change my mind about approving anyone!"
Ryan and Alina exchanged a look, both silently laughing at the absurdity of the situation, the old lady completely clueless about the real reason Ryan was being so meticulous.
As they walked back toward the main door, Alina muttered softly to Ryan, "You're ridiculous."
"I know," he said simply, almost too calmly, his expression betraying nothing but inside, he was quietly pleased at how smoothly his plan to inspect the house was going.