Ann Vaughn staggered back several steps after being hit, barely avoiding the potted plant set in the corner behind her. Had she not shielded her abdomen in time, the consequences of that collision could easily be imagined. Thɪs chapter is updatᴇd by ɴovᴇl(F)ɪre.ɴet
Despite her quick reaction, Ann Vaughn’s hand was still scratched by the sharp edge of the pot.
Ann Vaughn’s pretty face immediately turned cold, her gaze frosty as she looked at Cynthia Vaughn, "What do you want?"
"Shouldn’t I be asking you that!" Cynthia Vaughn shot back, a barely detectable hint of malice flashing in her eyes as she saw Ann standing there unharmed, "Ann Vaughn, can’t you just leave me alone?"
"Isn’t it enough that you’ve taken the position of Mrs. Hawthorne from me? You know perfectly well that Cian loves me, not you, so why do you continue to cling to him? How can you be so shameless?"
Her sharp and bitter accusations became more piercing with each word, making Ann Vaughn find it amusing, "Cynthia, has your brain stopped working? Are you accusing me of your own crimes? And if you don’t need your eyes, you should them to someone who does—stop letting them collect dust!"
"You’re calling me blind?" Cynthia’s face twisted with anger as she glared at her, raising a hand as though to strike Ann Vaughn.
Ann Vaughn swiftly caught her arm and unceremoniously pushed her away, "If you’re really capable, use your best moves—the crying, the tantrums—to force Cyrus Hawthorne to agree to a divorce instead of trying to lord it over me here!"
The longer the divorce took, the more disadvantageous it would be for her and her child.
But Cyrus Hawthorne never brought up the matter, leaving her with no choice but to wait as she couldn’t compete with his power.
Ann Vaughn had imagined countless ways Cyrus might resort to madness in order to transplant her heart to Cynthia.
He didn’t care for her life, so how could she hope he would care for the life of this child?
Ann Vaughn raised her eyes for one last look at Cynthia Vaughn before turning and walking away.
Cynthia stood there, nearly furious enough to throw the newly bought bag in her hand at Ann Vaughn.
But she couldn’t shake the growing unease in her heart, remembering how Cyrus always brushed off the topic of divorce and never mentioned when it might happen.
As long as Ann Vaughn remained Mrs. Hawthorne, and her child continued to exist, Cynthia’s heart transplant surgery could very likely be delayed because of these factors.
Ann Vaughn had been bothered for days over Cyrus throwing away the painstakingly extracted medicine, and without new suppliers, she was forced to scavenge across every pharmacy to gather the herbs she needed.
"Miss Vaughn, we’re currently out of the herbs you need, but if it’s urgent, we can deliver them to you tomorrow. Does that work for you?" The pharmacy owner looked Ann over thoughtfully, smiling as he spoke.
"That’s fine, I’ll come back tomorrow then." Ann Vaughn left her list, feeling a bit relieved.
Having searched through so many stores, this was the only one with both a complete selection and decent quality herbs.
After paying a deposit and leaving her contact information, Ann Vaughn left, not knowing that the pharmacy owner and others were aware of her identity.
"Boss, are you saying that the customer just now is Mrs. Hawthorne? But this store belongs to the Hawthorne Family. If Mrs. Hawthorne wanted anything, she could solve it with a simple phone call..."
"It’s best to report this to President Hawthorne," the owner said slowly, dialing the internal line, "It’s understandable that Mrs. Hawthorne doesn’t know this is a Hawthorne business, given that she isn’t held in high regard there."