Mrs. Whitlock was initially surprised, then she understood.
"Don’t worry, I understand how you feel. I won’t tell anyone."
Downstairs in the banquet hall, the birthday celebration had already begun, with a scene of clinking glasses and elegant people moving gracefully.
"Cian, will my sister be upset if she knows you brought me here? I’m a bit worried about her." Cynthia clung to Cyrus Hawthorne’s arm, leaning into him with a shy expression, as if she couldn’t be separated from him for a moment.
The woman standing beside Cyrus Hawthorne always sparked curiosity. ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ɴovᴇl(F)ɪre.ɴet
Ever since that wedding half a year ago, women in The Imperial Capital vying for the position of Mrs. Hawthorne almost cried themselves to death, their hearts shattered.
No one could have imagined that such an unparalleled man, hailed as a business legend, would marry a woman of ill repute.
Therefore, everyone assumed one thing.
That anyone could potentially push Ann Vaughn aside and take that place.
"No." Cyrus Hawthorne held a glass of red wine, with a subtle, enigmatic smile, nodding indifferently yet gracefully to those greeting him.
Like a king surveying his territory, proud and unchallenged, leaving no room for dissent.
Cynthia felt secretly delighted upon hearing this, her smile responding to the envious gazes in the room, her eyes filled with triumph.
No matter how much Grandpa Hawthorne supports, in the end, Ann Vaughn still couldn’t even step through The Whitlock Family’s doors, right?
Only she deserved to stand beside Cyrus Hawthorne, basking in the attention of everyone.
Just then, the master of ceremonies’ voice came from the stage.
"Thank you, esteemed guests, for taking the time to celebrate Mrs. Whitlock’s birthday. We hope everyone has a wonderful evening and feels at home! Now, let us welcome Mrs. Whitlock to give her speech!"
Murmurs arose in the audience.
Everyone knew Mrs. Whitlock had been unwell for a long time despite consulting many revered doctors.
Director Whitlock, desperate for her recovery, even tried a blessing ceremony tied to birthdays, though no one understood its basis.
Could the blessing have really worked, allowing her to be up and about?
As the spotlight focused, they saw an elegantly dressed, charming lady descend the stairs, with a stunningly beautiful woman by her side.
"I thank each of you present, but I especially want to thank the Divine Doctor beside me. Without her, I might have spent this birthday bedridden," Mrs. Whitlock began directly, skipping further formalities to express her gratitude to Ann Vaughn.
This part wasn’t in the original speech given by the MC. Ann Vaughn looked surprised, quickly composed herself, and stood silently without stealing the spotlight.
Yet despite this, a beauty always draws the eye.
Mrs. Whitlock’s words turned everyone’s attention to Ann Vaughn, and she was the first one to catch Cyrus Hawthorne’s gaze from the terrace railing.
She indeed chose that pristine white mermaid gown with feather embellishments, flattering her slim and graceful figure.
The gown was interwoven with delicate pale purple shades, shimmering with her movements like stars entering the night.
Above was her magnificent face with a touch of powder, brows like distant mountains, eyes like twinkling stars, lips like roses, skin radiant as if glowing, charmingly radiant beyond words.
Just standing there, she made you believe that the adage "one look topples a city, another look topples a nation" might actually be true.
A fleeting astonishment appeared in Cyrus Hawthorne’s deep, narrow eyes, surprising even himself.