Her colleague''s eyes lit up, and she looked at Hannah expectantly. The


    investigation had hit a dead end with Hans. Without a lead from him, the case would drag on indefinitely.


    Hannah feigned indecision, though she was secretly thrilled.


    "Sometimes, youngdy," Hans said, walking past her, "friends are meant to be sold out."


    "Fine," Hannah agreed. "But first, you talk to my boss. When you''re done, I''ll tell you who''s in the picture."


    Hans nodded, satisfied. The meeting was a sess, and they were given the rest of the afternoon off.


    Back at the hotel, Hannah stepped into the elevator and saw a familiar figure rush in just as the doors were closing. She retreated to the corner. There were other people in the elevator, so Sandra didn''t notice her.


    Sandra was on her phone, her eyes red-rimmed as she spoke in a choked voice. "Mom, I''m your daughter! Are you really going to sell me off just to save the family? Have you no shame?"


    "I am not marrying him! My life is not a bargaining chip! If someone has to marry him, you do it!"


    She ended the call with a sob, tears welling in her eyes. As she looked up, she saw Hannah standing in the corner. The world seemed to fall silent. It was just the two of them.


    Hannah looked at her with an expression of pure, innocent confusion,


    suppressing a triumphant smile. From the sounds of it, Hans had called Sandra''s mother, who had then called Sandra, leading to this meltdown. But what was Sandra doing at this hotel?


    "What a coincidence," Hannah said. "Are you staying here too?"


    Sandra blinked, mumbling an incoherent reply. The elevator reached Hannah''s floor. She stepped out, but Sandra remained inside, pretending to go to a higher floor. Hannah paid her no mind and walked to her room.


    The moment she opened the door, she saw him standing on the balcony. For a second, she considered calling security.


    "What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice like ice. She couldn''t believe he had followed her to a new hotel.


    "Why did you change hotels?" Lionel''s voice was cold. "Are you angry because I didn''te backst night?"


    Hannah kicked off her shoes and sat down at the vanity to remove her makeup. "When did you be so conceited?" she said airily. "This hotel is closer to my office. I can sleep in."


    He didn''t believe her, but he couldn''t argue with her logic.


    "By the way, I saw Sandra in the elevator," Hannah added. "She was crying. It sounded like she had a fight with her mother."


    Just then, there was a knock at the door. Hannah nced toward it, then continued to wipe her face. Lionel strode to the door and opened it.


    "Lionel..." The woman outside, upon seeing him, immediately softened her voice, Her eyebrows were knitted in a look of distress, and her tear fitted eyes gazed up at him Lionel, my mother called. She''s forcing me to marry Mr. Temple right away. She said if I don''t, she''ll disown me."


    From the doorway, Sandra couldn''t see the vanity. But Hannah could hear every word. So Sandra wasn''t staying here after all. She hade looking for Lionel.


    Hannah stared at her own reflection, a whirlwind of emotions—anger, pain, resentment-swirling within her before settling into a cold calm. She took a deep breath, capped the bottle of makeup remover, and walked out.


    "Lionel, I don''t want to marry-"


    “Ms. Woods?” Hannah emerged, her gaze sweeping over them. “Why are you talking in the doorway? Come in."


    Sandra stared, shocked. She had assumed they were in separate rooms. They were staying together? But they always had separate rooms at the Rosenberg estate. Did this mean they weren''t getting a divorce after all?


    The thought made Sandra''s hands clench so tightly that her nails dug into her palms.


    "Come in," Lionel said, stepping aside. He watched as Hannah calmly poured three sses of water, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. What was she up to?


    "I heard your mother wants you to marry Mr. Temple. That seems awfully fast, even for a blind date," Hannah said, sitting on the sofa and taking a sip of water.


    Sandra bristled at her calm, almost


    condescending tone. The


    confidence, the status, the wealth it should have all been hers! If it


    werent for her Hannah would still be a no-namewyer from an orphanage, a nobody with no background and no future. Who was she to look at her like that?


    Hannah lowered her gaze, watching Sandra''s anger build. Yes, that''s it. Get angry. Resent me. Hate me. Do whatever it takes to pull me down from my position as Mrs. Rosenberg.


    Sandra took a deep breath and turned to Lionel, her expression shifting instantly. “Everything was fine untilst night. Then, out of nowhere my mother starts asking about the date, and today she''s demanding I get married. I think someone must have said something to her."


    Hannah said nothing, leaning back and scrolling through her phone.


    Lionel watched Hannah''s rxed posture, a seed of suspicion taking root in his mind.


    "Lionel," Sandra said, "do you think Mr. Temple could have said something to my mother? Is that why she''s so upset?"