Who knew he’d grab that finger, his thin lips lifting in a faint smile, "To give you a chance to make a request of me?"
"Do I only have the right to ask something of you when you need my forgiveness?" Ann Vaughn pretended to be angry.
"I’m a businessman; I never do deals that lose money." Cyrus Hawthorne raised an eyebrow, his lazy tone extremely irritating.
Ann Vaughn gritted her teeth and pinched his waist, glaring fiercely, "You—"
Before she could finish, her hand accidentally tightened on the door handle, and she slammed the hospital room door shut!
"Where were you listening from?" Cyrus Hawthorne, finding it amusing, pressed her soft palm and gazed at her expressionless face, asking.
"...I heard Grandpa say I can’t be the Sheridan Family’s daughter." Ann Vaughn’s shoulders slumped as she said tiredly, "Just about to hear the crucial part."
Just like those series that reveal the mastermind but then say to wait for the next update!
What use is this hand of hers!
Upon hearing this, the smile on Cyrus Hawthorne’s distinguished face slightly froze, "Did you hear wrong?"
’Cannot be’ and ’is not’ sound similar, but the meanings are vastly different.
If it’s the latter... it indicates that Ann Vaughn’s background indeed holds some earth-shattering secret unknown to outsiders.
"Although my hand is disobedient, at least my ears are working well." Ann Vaughn explained with a frustrated look, "Your mom seems to dislike me because she had some grudge with my mom before, and she guessed I’m her daughter, but Grandpa directly denied her guess."
Have to admit, Laura Quinn’s guess was quite accurate.
Thinking of this, confusion floated in Ann Vaughn’s eyes, "What kind of person was my mom, really?"
Wanda Chamberlain and Laura Quinn both hated her so much that even death couldn’t quell their hatred.
But the partial information Ann Vaughn got told her that Shuhua Vaughn wasn’t like that.
Right or wrong, she truly couldn’t tell.
"Listening isn’t as good as finding out for yourself, hmm?" The contemplation in Cyrus Hawthorne’s narrow eyes completely vanished, and he said to her in a deep voice, "Go home early tonight; I’ve got something to give you."
Package himself as a gift for her?
While contemplating, Ann Vaughn couldn’t help but let her mind wander.
"If it’s something as tacky as flowers, I won’t accept it." She puffed her cheeks slightly, challenging deliberately.
"Hmm." Cyrus Hawthorne casually glanced at her, "You seemed quite happy with the last bunch, didn’t you?"
Ann Vaughn: "..." Could that bouquet be compared to the entire garden’s worth of flowers?
From that second, she no longer looked forward to what he would give her tonight.
Just as Ann Vaughn was silently complaining, her phone in the bag suddenly rang; it was Sherry calling.
"Annie, it’s bad! A bunch of foreigners surrounded our clinic, specifically asking for you. They might be here for revenge, so just stay at home and don’t go anywhere, understand—ah!"
The hurried voice hadn’t finished its anxious speech before Ann Vaughn heard Sherry scream, and the call disconnected.
"Sherry might be in trouble, I need to go to the clinic." Ann Vaughn’s brows furrowed tightly, and she nervously clenched her slender fingers.
"I’ll take you." Although he didn’t know what was said in Ann Vaughn’s call, Cyrus Hawthorne, who received the news a step earlier, had already guessed what it was about.
Something that only Ann Vaughn could resolve.
Outside Vaughn Clinic.
A group of tall, strong foreigners in black uniforms and sunglasses almost surrounded the entire clinic, making it so no passerby within a hundred meters dared approach.
Even the guests who had appointments inside had mostly fled.
Through the glass door, you could vaguely see a corner of a light blue dress at the resting table, along with a pair of delicate hands that spoke of a pampered life; only the skin marred their beauty.
After getting out of the car, Ann Vaughn saw this scene outside the clinic, pursed her red lips tightly, and then walked inside.
The foreigners immediately stopped her.
"I’m the owner of this clinic." Not knowing which country they were from, Ann Vaughn could only use a common language to communicate.
At this point, a man in a white tailcoat emerged from within, spoke to the foreigners, and they let Ann Vaughn pass.
Ann Vaughn: "..." The miraculous series.
Needing someone else’s permission to enter her own clinic.
"Weren’t you told not to come? These people don’t seem nice." Sherry stood up from the reception desk when she saw Ann Vaughn arrive, looking at her with some disapproval.
"Are you okay?" Ann Vaughn examined Sherry’s face and body intently; good, no signs of harm.
Sherry shook her head, "They didn’t harm us, they’re just aggressively rude."
Directly snatching away her phone with an attitude that forbids any contact between the clinic and the outside world.
To the point where one could mistakenly think it was a damn terrorist attack.
Ann Vaughn nodded slightly, then asked the man in the tailcoat in a foreign language, "Where’s your boss?"
The man in the tailcoat, just finishing a call, responded in S Country’s language to her question, "Our lady has already left, and this card is to compensate for your losses today."
He placed a gold-edged bank card on the table, adjusted his lapels, and gestured for his men to withdraw.
In less than a minute, all the black-uniformed foreigners guarding inside and outside the clinic had dispersed.
"...Are these people just too full?" Ann Vaughn’s mouth twitched, finding their odd behavior hard to describe.
"No, they’re not." Suddenly a weak voice contradicted from behind the sofa, "I only ate thirty percent full this morning."
Then she saw a figure in a light blue haute couture dress draped with a white shawl stand up from behind the sofa.
The shoulder-length light blonde hair cascaded to the chest with playful curls.
But her real appearance was hidden behind a mask and sunglasses, rendering her face unseeable.
Ann Vaughn’s gaze paused on her for a few seconds, then asked, "Are you the ’miss’ those people mentioned earlier?"
"Seems so." The girl nodded lightly, "Sorry for disturbing you, I apologize on behalf of those ill-mannered, boorish men."
Ann Vaughn couldn’t help but smile; this girl appeared delicate but had a pretty unyielding tongue.
"Did you come here for treatment?" Thinking of the money given by the man in the tailcoat, Ann Vaughn casually asked.
"I heard you’re a practitioner of Chinese medicine."
The girl’s eyes immediately showed a disappointed look, "Then you can’t cure my illness."