VANCE’S POV
I was late again for work the next day since Killian refused to leave the apartment despite the glares and scorn looks from Arran.
He made himself at home and cooked dinner. Arran must have changed his mind after tasting the food and serving a second plate. He then stared at Killian for a long time before picking up his plate and taking it to the sink.
“Don’t hack the door lock again. If you want to enter, just press the bell,” Arran stated, leaving the dining room. My mouth was ajar as I stared at his back disappearing down the hallway.
Killian gloated while I groaned knowing full well Arran had just approved of him.
I shook away the memory and hurriedly walked into my office. I closed the door and Arran's eyes widened. “Good morning, sir.”
Seated by the couch was none other than the director of the CIA, Mark Bronx.
“You are late, Director Vance,” he stated calmly.
“Good morning, sir. Good morning, Arran,” I responded.