Is this called a choice?
Ann Vaughn was confused as her eyes grew more misty from the steam in the bathroom, she just thought Dragon’s skills were impressive, choosing a coach should mean choosing someone accomplished, isn’t that the right approach?
Why does everything turn strange when it comes to him??
... Could it be that Cyrus Hawthorne meant she should have asked him to teach her, instead of choosing Dragon!?
Realizing this, Ann Vaughn suddenly froze, looking at the reflection in the mirror where she was leaning against Cyrus Hawthorne’s chest, tightly held in his embrace, her gaze flickered.
She never really considered asking Cyrus Hawthorne to teach her these things.
First of all, whether he would agree or not was uncertain.
"Even if it weren’t Dragon, I wouldn’t let you teach me." Ann Vaughn slowly tilted her head back to meet the gaze of Cyrus Hawthorne through the mirror, a smile blossoming on her red lips, "You don’t care whether you live or die, whether your health improves or deteriorates doesn’t matter to you."
"So why bother about who I choose as my coach? Someone who can’t even manage themselves, seems unqualified to question my choices, right?"
"Oh, I forgot we are still married... Why don’t you find some time to get divorced, so we both can move on separately, I won’t care how you ruin your health, and you should not interfere with me and the young studs."
These three words were like a switch, instantly plunging the warm temperature in the bathroom to sub-zero, the chilling cold piercing to the bone, even breathing felt icy.
The most horrifying was the man’s eyes filled with cruelty and violence, and the murderous intent swelling with his anger.
Ann Vaughn however simply looked at him calmly, without any fear.
No matter how angry he got, he wouldn’t do anything to her, so naturally, Ann Vaughn wasn’t afraid at all.
Since realizing his health had deteriorated again, the anger in her heart had built up day by day, even she couldn’t help but admire herself.
But if she didn’t vent it out soon, she’d suffocate...
Cyrus Hawthorne indeed couldn’t do anything to her.
Hit her, but couldn’t bear it, he would feel pained. The most update n0vels are published on NovᴇlFɪre.nᴇt
Yell at her, he couldn’t bring himself to, it would be a headache.
He couldn’t hit or yell at her, so he could only take it out on her tenfold.
If Ann Vaughn could hear Cyrus Hawthorne’s thoughts at this moment, she would definitely shout angrily, damn fairness, when did they ever have fairness in this aspect!
The strength she used to break the mahogany table was nothing but a playful gesture to him, let alone his whole being, she couldn’t even push his hand away!
Just where is the fairness?
During training, she had spent all her strength, only her mouth retained some attacking power.
"Cyrus Hawthorne, damn you!"
"It takes guts to argue, throwing punches doesn’t make you a gentleman!"
"Ugh, I want to divorce you!"
Outside the floor-to-ceiling window, day and night alternated, the quartz clock in the room ticked to the position indicating eleven o’clock.
The bathroom door opened, Cyrus Hawthorne, holding the already asleep Ann Vaughn in his arms, walked out directly to the bed, gently placed her on the big bed, and covered her with a blanket.
Only Ann Vaughn’s face peeked out of the blanket, her cheeks flushed, her curled lashes fluttering lightly, enhancing the enchanting crimson at the corners of her eyes, making her irresistibly attractive.
Cyrus Hawthorne’s heart, filled with anger, softened in an instant, his stern face becoming gentle.
He was just about to stand up when his collar was grabbed by a small hand stretching out from beneath the blanket.
"Cyrus Hawthorne, I want to divorce you!" Ann Vaughn struggled to open her eyes, glaring at the handsome face close by, she said fiercely.
But her voice was weak, and her words came out soft and feathery, more like...
Raising his eyebrows slightly, Cyrus Hawthorne’s cold eyes held no anger, he bent down and kissed her flushed cheek, "Still want to?"
"Who wants it!" Ann Vaughn said angrily, holding tight to his collar, almost wishing to strangle him to death.
But due to lack of strength, she became so anxious she almost teared up.
She had never been so ashamed in her life.
Gazing at her delicate, angry face filled with shame and frustration, a hint of helplessness flickered in Cyrus Hawthorne’s eyes, his voice sighing heavily, "If I promise to take care of my health, what can you promise me?"
Ann Vaughn’s eyes lit up involuntarily, then she looked at him with some confusion, "What promise?"
"What do you think?" Cyrus Hawthorne raised his eyebrows, not specifying.
Suddenly, Ann Vaughn seemed to have a stroke of genius, "Not Dragon, I want you to teach me!"
As her words landed, Cyrus Hawthorne’s thin lips slowly curved up, watching her being proud of her plan’s success, completely unaware she had long fallen into his trap, he chuckled softly.
Hunters don’t just set traps.
"Regarding Ansel..." Cyrus Hawthorne was about to speak again when he saw Ann Vaughn had already hidden her face in the blanket, soundly asleep.
He paused, his long fingers lightly touching her smooth-as-milk skin, his voice magnetic with an unnoticed affection, "Silly."
"May I ask, did you knock my mom out?" A soft, aggrieved childish voice suddenly came from beside him.