"Young Madam, it’s inconvenient for you to move right now. I’ll carry you over and push you to freshen up," the gardener said with a smile, pushing the wheelchair toward Ann Vaughn.
"I’m not your Young Madam. You can call me by my name, Ann Vaughn." Ann breathed a sigh of relief, correcting him as she realized he didn’t know she was impersonating the real Young Madam.
The gardener kept smiling, "Alright, Young Madam."
After freshening up, Ann was pushed downstairs by the gardener all the way to the dining room.
"Young Madam, do you want a Chinese-style breakfast or a Western one?" the gardener asked again.
"Chinese-style... I’m really not your Young Madam, so please stop calling me that," Ann couldn’t help but rub her forehead, her bright eyes darting around, and she said mockingly, "If you keep calling me that, and my sister finds out, it might..."
The gardener was stunned for a moment. This was what Uncle Dexter instructed them last night, saying this lady was very likely to become the future Young Madam. Nᴇw novel chapters are publɪshed on ɴovᴇl_Firᴇ.ɴet
After all, it had been years since a woman was around Mr. Hawthorne, and naturally, Miss Hawthorne didn’t count.
And being brought here by Mr. Hawthorne was mostly serious, not a joke.
But this lady said, her sister...
The gardener immediately felt a fear of having discovered some high-society secret, dared not to address her wrongly, and went to prepare breakfast for Ann.
"How did you rest last night?" A deep, magnetic voice came from behind Ann.
She turned her head to see a man in a cool and lazy demeanor wearing a casual set of loungewear walking into the dining room and then seated himself at the main seat, right by her hand.
Today, Cyrus Hawthorne seemed particularly rested, an apparent brightness radiating from his features, strikingly handsome.
Ann sipped her milk, giving a perfunctory "Mm."
At this moment, Uncle Dexter brought breakfast to the table and specially served Ann a bowl of black-bone chicken soup, smiling kindly, "Miss Vaughn, treat this place as your home. No need to be restrained."
Although the young master and the Young Madam divorced, seeing how the young master still cares about her, he believed it wouldn’t be long before he wins her back.
"Thank you, Uncle Dexter." Ann politely took the bowl of soup he handed over and almost spat out the milk she was drinking when she saw what was inside.
Red date black-bone chicken soup...
Did Uncle Dexter misunderstand something??
"No need to be polite; drink more soup; it’s very good for health."
With all the elder’s enthusiasm, Ann didn’t want to disappoint him, but drinking it just like that made her feel suffocated inside.
In her current state, even if she wanted to do anything with Cyrus, she couldn’t.
Such a good opportunity wasted.
"Chicken soup for breakfast is too greasy; better to have it later," Cyrus saw Uncle Dexter’s misunderstanding and noticed Ann’s conflicted expression, saying lightly.
"Yes, chicken soup in the morning could be too much; let’s keep it warm and let Miss Vaughn drink it this afternoon." Uncle Dexter said, then instructed someone to take the soup away.
Ann pressed her lips and smiled apologetically at Uncle Dexter, feeling a bit guilty when she thought of Old Master Hawthorne.
Her "death" four years ago surely couldn’t have been hidden from Grandpa Hawthorne; she just didn’t know how he was doing now.
"If you miss Grandpa, you can visit him anytime," Cyrus glanced at Ann with a faint smile on his lips.
Ann remained silent for a moment, her eyebrows knitting in dissatisfaction, "Cyrus Hawthorne, you’re really hateful."
This sense of being seen through by him at any moment, she disliked very much.
And she disliked even more that it was him who could so easily see through her.
After this thought, Ann suddenly felt a sense of crisis.
If Cyrus saw through her attempts to investigate the virus research, her plans would be thwarted.
But if she did not investigate, she had a hunch she would lose the biggest clue.
Otherwise, she wouldn’t want to stay by his side for even a second.
Cyrus’s eyes darkened slightly, revealing nothing, but the aura around him gradually sank into stillness, like a deadly silent abyss.
After breakfast, Ann was pushed upstairs by the gardener.
Once the gardener left the room, she immediately picked up her phone to call Kenny, and the call connected quickly.
"Mummy, you didn’t come home again last night!" The accusatory little voice came through the phone.
"Lord Kenny, Mummy is sorry. Something special happened, so I might not be able to come back these days..." Ann pleaded, sounding as meek as possible.
No choice, her Kenny at a young age already acted like a little housekeeper, and his nagging was more than she could handle.
The other line was silent for two seconds, then Kenny earnestly said, "Mummy, are you out there doing bad things?"
"How could it be! It’s some trouble at work, and if it’s not resolved, many people will suffer."
"Then Mummy must promise Kenny to be careful and pay attention to safety, because if anything happens to Mummy, Kenny will be very sad." The little one earnestly said in his babyish voice.
It nearly melted Ann’s heart.
"I promise! Remember to eat and sleep on time, and take care of yourself. Love you, baby!" Ann blew a big kiss toward the phone before hanging up.
After she put down the phone, Ann turned around in her wheelchair only to find Cyrus leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed.
Ann was instantly startled, her body even shivering, her heart skipped a beat, and her eyes tightened.
When did he come? How long had he been standing there? How much did he hear?
Ann almost dug her nails into the soft pad of the wheelchair’s armrest, her heart a mess.
Even now, she couldn’t forget that four years ago, to coerce her into an abortion, Cyrus had said such words, sacrificing even his own child for the sake of benefit.
This man was far more terrifying than she ever imagined.
If he discovered Kenny’s existence...
No worries, Kenny was now legally Sherry’s late-life child, and all documentation was meticulously done. She couldn’t scare herself.
While she comforted herself this way, Ann raised her chin in fake composure to confront Cyrus, "Eavesdropping on someone’s phone call is not gentlemanly."
"When did I ever claim to be a gentleman?" Cyrus’s narrow eyes were faint, then he walked from the doorway to Ann’s side, placing his hands on both sides of her wheelchair’s armrests, leaning in closer, "Who was the person on the call just now?"
Ann’s back tingled, her body gradually tensing under his domineering gaze.
"That’s my private matter, and you have no right to inquire."
"I’ll ask you one last time, who is he?" In Cyrus’s deep, dark eyes, a hint of ferocity slowly surfaced, his tone so cold it seemed about to freeze.
Unable to maneuver her wheelchair, Ann just lifted her head, her bright eyes filled with sarcasm as she looked at him, "And I’ll tell you one last time, it’s my private matter, none of your business!"
Her son was hers alone, even he shouldn’t think he could take Kenny from her!