"Who said Cynthia Vaughn and I..." Ann Vaughn just wanted to ask the question that was puzzling her, but Cyrus Hawthorne suddenly placed his index finger on her lips, and the deep eyes like the sea showed some gravity.
The piercing gunshot suddenly came, followed by hurried footsteps that were constantly approaching the hiding place!
Ann Vaughn’s heart tightened; Cyrus still had injuries, and she had less than half a pack of the drug left.
Hearing the footsteps, there were at least four or five people coming, the drug’s dosage was simply insufficient.
With her mind racing, Ann Vaughn quickly figured it out and without hesitation, took the last pack of drug from her sleeve and stuffed it into Cyrus’s hand.
"You run first, this pack can knock out two or three people, it can buy you time to get away from here."
Cyrus Hawthorne’s brows immediately furrowed, his deep dark eyes revealing unreadable meaning, "Do you know what you’re doing?"
Ann Vaughn held her breath and pushed him, "Their target is you, they shouldn’t do anything to me. If you leave, you can bring people back to rescue me, right?"
It was at this moment.
"They really are here!"
"Cripple them and take them away, the boss said leaving them a breath is enough."
A group of men in black said this as they quickly surrounded the hiding place, their black gun barrels pointing directly at the people inside.
Ann Vaughn bit down on her lip in anxiety, her shoulder suddenly sank. She turned to see Cyrus Hawthorne with a slight, wild smile on his lips, saying to her, "Close your eyes."
With that, he raised his hand and brushed Ann Vaughn’s eyelids, forcing her to close her eyes. The next moment his tall figure vanished from the spot.
In just an instant of daze, Ann Vaughn heard gunshots mingled with sporadic cries of pain. Follow current novels on N(o)vᴇl(F)ire.nᴇt
Even though she didn’t see what happened at that moment, it still made Ann Vaughn’s heart tighten as if it was being squeezed.
Finally, unable to hold back, she opened her eyes to see the scene in front of her, her bright eyes gradually widening, reflecting the figure’s current stance.
Intercepting fists, side kicks, each attack move was swift, fierce, and precise, the decisiveness and ruthlessness of the attack could make anyone shiver just by watching it.
The man exuded a strong aura of bloodlust, his usually serene and picturesque brows seemed to be inked with thick strokes, stern and fierce, like the most dangerous beast in the jungle.
Once awakened, the consequences would be unimaginable.
Ann Vaughn’s lips, reddened from a lingering fever, parted slightly, her eyes sparkling like layers of starlight gathering on that man.
At the same time, the last person had their gun-holding hand broken by Cyrus Hawthorne with one hand, and then casually tossed aside as if throwing away garbage.
The killing look in Cyrus Hawthorne’s eyes faded slightly, the blunt pain from the wounds accidentally torn during the fight made him frown, and his body swayed slightly.
Seeing this, Ann Vaughn hurriedly went up to support him, looking at his shirt almost stained completely with blood, her eyes ached with a sourness, "You’ve lost your mind."
"If I can’t even protect you, what kind of man am I?" Cyrus Hawthorne scoffed lightly, "I wouldn’t just leave you and run away."
Ann Vaughn pressed her lips tight, but her heart felt as if something had suddenly struck it, like soft honey filling her whole heart.
Suddenly, footsteps came from behind.
Ann Vaughn’s expression changed, unconsciously gripping Cyrus Hawthorne’s sleeve, "Someone’s coming."
"Don’t worry, it’s Mark Joyce and the others."