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Saint had fallen asleep without even eating last night. He has been very much engrossed in finding as much as possible about James Jackson, that he fell asleep with his laptop by his side.

He wakes up with a banging headache and the sound of the doorbell trying consistently going off.

He kicks the blanket off himself, thank God that he is still clothed, so he goes to answer the door.

His anger only intensifies when he sees Adriana Sanchez standing at his front door with a huge grin, two cups of coffee, and some croissants.

“You've got to be kidding me,” he mutters as he rubs his eyes.

“Mister Saint, hi.” She keeps the smile on.

“Adriana Sanchez, what are you doing here? Don't tell me that my brother gave you my address!”

“He didn't, I found it out myself,” she looks down at her feet. “Are you going to allow me to come in? Looks like you just woke up, but no worries, I brought you some coffee!”

“What makes you think that I want your damn coffee?” He squints with displeasure.