Chapter 616

Derek replied at once, his voice steeped in derision, "That's Claude Hobbes. A persistent admirer of Ms.Scott. Word is, he's already engaged, yet he clings to her obsessively, like a mutt gnawing a bone."

His gaze flicked to the rearview mirror where Claude's desperate attempt to seize Hannah's arm played out,and with thinly veiled disgust, he added, "Ms. Scott's turned him down more times than I can count, but the man's thickas stone-utterly without shame."

Vincent's expression didn't shift. His eyes cut toward the commotion outside the car, cold and remote. He turned his attention away, his tone stripped of all inflection."Drive."

Derek blinked, surprised by the command.′′Mr. Jones, shouldn't we intervene? Claude's clearly harassing Ms.Scott!"

"I said drive." The words fell sharp, glacial.

One look at Vincent's face told Derek he'd pushed too far. With reluctant obedience, he shifted gears and pulled the car away.

Meanwhile, Claude reached for Hannah's hand again, desperation softening his features.′′Anna,where have you been? I searched everywhere for you."

Hannah sidestepped his hand, her voice chilled and measured. "I've been occupied with work."

Claude's brows drew together in doubts. "Just work? So busy that you couldn't send a single message?Anna, tell me the truth-is something wrong?"

Suppressing the irritation tightening her chest, Hannah forced her tone to remain steady. "First, I've indeed been buried in work. Second, Claude, you're an engaged man. We have no business crossing certain lines.Keeping distance is the least courtesy we owe your fiancée."

A shadow of sorrow swept across Claude's face as he tried to play upon nostalgia. "I know l'm engaged.But after all this time, can't we at least stay close friends? You were once like family to me, Anna. Now you don't

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even want to see me-isn't that cruel?"

Complex emotions flickered briefly in his eyes.

"Family?" Hannah let out a faint, scornful laugh. "Claude, what once bound us as family twisted into something else long ago. Keeping our distance now is the most basic respect I can offer you and your fiancée.I refuse to be branded the woman meddling in someone else's relationship."

"You'd never be that," Claude argued, desperation creeping in. "No one would dare accuse you.I can explain..."

Hannah's patience snapped. "Stay far away from me, and only then will I truly avoid being unfairly accused.That's how I can avoid the gossip you pretend not to hear. Every time you approach me, you drag trouble to my door."

The unyielding coldness in her gaze struck him like a blow. Pain carved deep lines into his face as realization settled in-he had truly lost her.

Hannah didn't waver. "I have work to attend to," she said, her tone glacial. "Goodbye."

Before he could reply, she turned and strode to her car,leaving,the cemetery-and him-behind.

Back at her office, Hannah buried herself in paperwork until the clock announced evening. A business dinner awaited her.

She met the client at an elegant restaurant, its polished ambiance humming with quiet wealth.

As they approached their table, Hannah's eyes drifted unconsciously across the room-and froze. Vincent.He sat opposite a stylish woman, whom she didn't recognize, and they were both engaged in seemingly easy conversation.

The faint smile touching Vincent'slips sent an unexpected sting through Hannah's chest. An ache she didn't wish to name spread beneath her ribs.

Forcing a pleasant expression, Hannah offered her client an apologetic smile and subtly instructed the

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waiter to seat them at a table close to Vincent's-close enough to overhear if she wished.

Once seated, she found herself glancing over more often than she wanted to admit. The quiet laughter Vincent shared with the woman across from him seemed to dull the rest of the restaurant's glow. Even the fine meal before her tasted of nothing.

When Vincent finally rose, appearing to head toward the restroom, impulse overrode reason. "Excuse me,"she said softly to her client and then followed Vincent.

She pushed through the door of the men's restroom without hesitation.

Vincent stood at the sink, water running over his hands. When their eyes met in the mirror, his movements stilled, and for a moment, surprise flashed beneath his composed exterior. He shut off the tap,turned, and regarded her with faint annoyance creasing his brow."This is the men's room."

Hannah leaned casually against the door, arms folded, calm and unapologetic."Of course,I'm aware."

Her voice carried a hint of challenge. Boundaries had never intimidated her-especially not when it came to pursuing him.

Once, during their university years, she had crossed a far bolder line. After PE class, when the rest of the students hurried through changing and scattered from the gym, Vincent, true to his obsession with cleanliness, had lingered for his habitual shower before dressing.

Hannah, reckless with curiosity and emboldened by infatuation, had slipped unnoticed into the men's locker room and concealed herself inside Vincent's personal locker.

The room had been utterly still-just the faint hum of the fluorescent lights above. She'd waited, heart hammering, until the echo of footsteps broke the silence. Vincent's. Each step drew closer, steady and unhurried. The sound of the locker door creaking open made her breath hitch...

The next moment, their gazes had collided.

Hannah could still recall that scene with startling clarity: Vincent, fresh from the shower, his torso bare and taut, a towel knotted loosely around his waist, droplets of water gliding down from his hair to his collarbone.

The sight had robbed her of thought.

For a heartbeat, Vincent had looked startled. Then, his composure returned, his brows knittingin sharp disapproval, voice low and cutting through the steam-filled air. "What are you doing here?"