"Miss Vaughn, do you have any complaints about me?" Annie was pondering when Auntie Golding’s slightly resentful words suddenly interrupted her.
Annie paused for a moment, nonchalantly putting her hand down, "What’s wrong?"
"I went through a lot of effort to make this medicinal food for you, and you didn’t take a single bite. It’s all for your health, you know. If you have any criticism, you can tell me, and I’ll change it. But wasting food isn’t good, right?" Auntie Golding wiped her hands, a bit of disapproval on her face.
Upon hearing this, Annie finished her corn juice, her pretty face calm.
"Auntie Golding, I hope you understand one thing."
"Even though Cyrus Hawthorne hired you, not me, it’s essentially to look after me. In light of this, your priority should be my preferences and dietary restrictions, not just feeding me whatever Cyrus Hawthorne says. I am a person, not a pet, understand?"
With that, Annie put down her cup, stood up, glanced at Auntie Golding lightly, and took her bag, leaving.
That glance was so subtle, yet it seemed to see through her, leaving Auntie Golding feeling a bit uncomfortable.
"Pfft, a mistress has the nerve to put on airs in front of me?" Auntie Golding showed displeasure, took out her phone, and fired off a message to her employer, exaggerating the situation to vent her feelings.
The matters at The Water Terrace didn’t affect Annie’s mood; instead, an idea of buying her own house inevitably germinated in her mind.
This feeling of being monitored in her private space was really hard to bear.
Moreover, what Cyrus Hawthorne instructed Auntie Golding to do was merely treating her as a container for nurturing the heart; she couldn’t accept it.
Very likely during those dangerous moments last night, his protection was just for the sake of her heart.
If it were damaged, it would be bad for Cynthia Vaughn.
Realizing this, a bitter smile appeared on Annie’s lips as the light in her eyes shattered bit by bit. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ NovᴇlFire(.)nᴇt
She was really unbearably naive.
How could she have thought that Cyrus Hawthorne’s reckless rescue was simply because she was Annie?
But what position does Annie hold in his heart compared to his beloved Cynthia Vaughn?
The taxi stopped in front of the Jennings Family villa, and Annie snapped back to reality, paid the fare, and got out of the car.
Thanks to the adjustment of traditional Chinese medicine, Sawyer Jennings’s poor health had improved significantly. Annie carefully examined him before deciding to administer acupuncture.
The housekeeper quickly brought over the herbal decoction that Annie said she needed, "Miss Vaughn, where should this be placed?"
Annie took the decoction and poured it into a silver basin, "This is for soaking the feet; acupuncture can be performed in twenty minutes."
The housekeeper listened and promptly followed her instructions.
The kid sitting in the wheelchair kept a sulky face, refusing to say a word, which amused Annie quite a bit.
"Little guy, do you know that in ancient times, if a woman’s feet were seen, the person who saw them had to marry her?"
Sawyer Jennings’s expression froze for a second, and then his face blushed at a visible speed, "I-I don’t want you to marry me! You go away!"
"Hey, I’m not only not leaving, but I’m going to see your little feet clearly; how’s that?" Annie said deliberately.
"You, you," Sawyer Jennings was trembling with anger, turned his head, and shouted at Sutton Jennings who walked into the room, "Bro, I don’t want to be married by this woman!"
Sutton Jennings’s peach blossom eyes paused for a moment, then he raised his eyebrows with a light smile, "Don’t worry, the age gap between you and Miss Annie is too large; both the law and your brother disagree."