But it would have been better if she hadn’t mentioned the phone. As soon as she mentioned the phone,
a certain man who had waited for her for three whole days without receiving a single message became sullen.
Cyrus Hawthorne let out a light chuckle, his thin lips curled into a half-smile, suddenly deciding not to let her off the hook so easily.
"To get any information from me, you have to pay a price, good girl." ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ NovᴇlFire(.)nᴇt
His voice, somehow low and husky, especially when close to Ann Vaughn’s ear, sent a sudden electric current up her spine, making her shiver.
At the mention of "good girl," Ann Vaughn instinctively had a bad premonition.
Every time he called her by that name, it was almost always when...
he was overwhelmed with emotion.
Just as this thought crossed her mind, Ann Vaughn suddenly found herself lifted off the ground. The unexpected loss of weight made her quickly wrap her arms around Cyrus Hawthorne’s neck, her gaze panicked, "What are you doing? I’ve changed my mind, I suddenly don’t want to ask anymore!"
"Too late." Cyrus Hawthorne’s tone was low and restrained, his arms tightened around her a bit, leaving her no room to escape.
Until night fell, the lights from thousands of homes outside were dimly twinkling, filtering through the slightly parted curtains.
Ann Vaughn lay on the pillow, her long hair cascading like a waterfall over her shoulders and cheeks, marked with red streaks, her luscious lips occasionally muttering something.
If you listen closely, you can tell she’s cursing.
Cursing a certain culprit, no less.
When she finally recovered, she opened her eyes and slowly got up from the bed, her whole body feeling as if it had been taken apart and reassembled, aching severely.
"Bastard." Ann Vaughn drew a sharp breath, reaching to massage her waist, her eyes full of grievance, "Liar."
"You still have the strength to curse me, not tired seemingly?" A slightly mischievous voice suddenly sounded, as a man in a white shirt and black trousers, exuding an inexplicably cool and ascetic aura, walked in.
Startled, Ann Vaughn quickly shook her head, hastily denied, "I was reciting herbs, not cursing anyone!"
"Don’t forget what you promised me." Cyrus Hawthorne noticed her leisurely demeanor, the corners of his lips slightly curled, then spoke in a threatening tone.
"...Got it." Ann Vaughn responded reluctantly.
The moment she uttered those two words, Ann Vaughn’s cheeks flushed again.
After finishing massaging her waist, Cyrus Hawthorne ignored Ann Vaughn’s protest, his slightly warm hands clumsily helped her put on her clothes piece by piece, not forgetting even her shoes.
He evidently treated her like a child.
She wasn’t a little baby like their own son.
Ann Vaughn puffed her cheeks in a pout, trying to endure her still-trembling legs, letting Cyrus Hawthorne lead her out of the office.
"When I went in to deliver the documents just now, I saw President Hawthorne helping Miss Vaughn put on her clothes and shoes... Do you think President Hawthorne is raising a wife or a daughter?"
"Don’t mention it, I’m dying of envy."
"Thanks for the invitation, I don’t want jealousy to blind my eyes, otherwise next time Miss Vaughn comes for hot cocoa with extra sugar, I’ll intentionally leave out the sugar."
The secretarial office was filled with sighs, wishing that their eyes had never been opened.
All secretaries: As long as I close my eyes fast enough, the dog food can’t catch me.
After dinner, Cyrus Hawthorne sent Ann Vaughn back to Azure Gardens Apartments.
"By the way, you still haven’t told me who that woman covered in blood in your room that day was." Ann Vaughn suddenly remembered before opening the door, quickly asking.