It seemed to cleanse a restless heart, gradually bringing peace and calm as the music spread.
Like the softest and coolest summer night breeze, the clear and pleasant sensation came upon one, making it impossible to resist its charm.
Sitting before the guqin with lowered eyes, Ann Vaughn seemed to be glowing, incredibly beautiful.
Cyrus Hawthorne’s deep eyes were fixed on Ann Vaughn, hinting at some exploration and appreciation.
Perhaps, he really never understood Ann Vaughn. Thɪs chapter is updated by NovᴇlFir(e).nᴇt
The piece ended, the music stopped.
Everyone was lost in the wonderful music, reminiscing for a long time, and didn’t even notice that Ann Vaughn had finished playing and left the stage.
"Annie, your playing is really beautiful, not much different from the masters I know," Mrs. Whitlock pulled Ann Vaughn’s hand and praised with a smile.
"Mrs. Whitlock, I’m a bit tired and would like to head back now," Ann Vaughn smiled faintly, glancing at Cynthia Vaughn, who was standing nearby forcing a smile and unable to speak a word, a hint of coldness passed through her eyes.
Her sister, though scheming and deep-minded, was still well-protected and cherished by their parents since childhood, probably really thinking that the world revolved around her.
Mrs. Whitlock also expressed understanding of her reason, had a car prepared, and sent her back.
Ann Vaughn thanked Mrs. Sheffield, her gaze inadvertently clashed with those deep, pool-like eyes, her heart trembled slightly, then she hurriedly looked away, pressed her lips, and left the venue.
After she left, Director Whitlock frowned and asked in a low voice, "Honey, don’t you think Mrs. Hawthorne looks familiar?"
"Beautiful people do have some similarities," Mrs. Whitlock replied.
"You have a point, perhaps I’m just overthinking..."
Back at The Water Terrace, Ann Vaughn bought some fruits and drinks from the downstairs supermarket before going upstairs.
The house was not cleaned, it was a mess, there were even fruit cores and tonics left by someone on the table.
Although they were few, Ann Vaughn had a good memory and recalled that she didn’t eat them.
Fortunately, she was the only one with the key to the room, otherwise, if Auntie Golding accidentally saw something and told Cyrus Hawthorne...
The consequences would be unimaginable.
She imagined unless Cynthia found another suitable heart source, otherwise, Cyrus would never let her go.
Ann Vaughn sighed softly, put the groceries in the fridge, cleaned the living room and kitchen, and found a few eggs in the fridge, so she used them to make a bowl of noodles.
As Ann Vaughn sat down at the dining table with her bowl of noodles, she heard the sound of the door opening at the entrance.
She thought it was Auntie Golding who forgot something and came back suddenly, but unexpectedly saw Cyrus Hawthorne emerge from behind the semi-transparent screen, she was so startled that her pupils shrank, and instinctively glanced at her room.
Luckily, she had just returned, and the room door was still locked.
"Why... are you suddenly here?" Ann Vaughn parted her red lips slightly, unconsciously tightening her grip on the chopsticks.
"Am I not allowed to come?" Cyrus casually placed his car keys on the nearby shelf, glanced at Ann Vaughn’s puzzled face, and his narrow eyes narrowed slightly, laced with a bit of displeasure.
"I didn’t mean it that way," Ann Vaughn lowered her eyes, her chopsticks stirring the fragrant noodles in the bowl, feeling inexplicably nervous.
The last time he came here was to question her about working at Aurelia, so what about this time?
Was it because at the party she made Cynthia lose face?