Chapter 644: Chapter 644: Jealous, Are You?
Yet, today is overcast, not a ray of sunlight, but no rain either.
However, the black umbrella above his head remained closely aligned with his steps as he walked forward.
The surrounding men in black lowered their heads, not daring to spare even a sidelong glance at him, only watching as his long boots tread past them, moving towards Ann Vaughn.
He bent down and picked up Ann Vaughn from the ground, not minding that the dirt and dust on her would dirty his pristine uniform.
"Sir, how can this be..." The man in red was shocked, hurriedly trying to intervene.
With a fleeting glance, the man silenced the man in red, who then bowed his head and asked, "Sir, how should we handle these people?"
The man turned and walked towards the Koenigsegg, leaving with a light laugh, "Being born human is a gift. To waste one’s life is a great error."
The man in red suddenly understood, "I understand your meaning."
Such people often meet only one end, becoming nourishment.
In no time, dozens of luxury cars left the place following the white Koenigsegg.
But the thugs and driver who had intended mischief here vanished silently from the world.
...
The oppressive darkness gradually faded like the tide.
Ann Vaughn struggled to open her hazy eyes, easing her discomfort of dizziness, only to find herself in pitch darkness.
"You’re awake."
As a voice filled with inexplicable danger fell, the room suddenly lit up with candlelight.
The man seated beside the bed on a high-back chair rested his chin lazily. The flickering candlelight on the table illuminated his face, pale to the point of sickliness, with exquisite features, deep-set eyes, exhibiting striking beauty.
The most captivating, however, were his dark red pupils, indescribably eerie.
He always held an unknown book in his hand, his slightly raised wrist appeared to have something moving.
Ann Vaughn’s nerves, momentarily relaxed by the light, became tense again, her slender fingers clutching her dress, "...Why are you here."
"Warren Vance."
"Why indeed?" Warren squinted and smiled at her, "Naturally, I’ve missed you terribly, darling."
"Don’t call me darling!" Ann Vaughn shuddered from his sickening words, and weakly retorted, "Can’t you fixate on someone else? It’s been years, isn’t it time to wake up from your fairy tale?"
They were such good friends at first, when did it all begin to change?
This is a question Ann Vaughn cannot answer, nor comprehend.
Warren ignored her inquiry, pouring two glasses of red wine, handing one to her, "Have a taste of my new brew. Ah... Naturally, it’s not as delicious as you."
Looking at the crimson liquid in the glass, Ann felt a chill run down her spine, avoiding it outright, "Thanks to you, I’ll never want to drink red wine again in my life."
"Why?" Warren watched her with a smile, his lips redder than the wine, "I know you don’t enjoy drinking blood. So, I won’t let you."
Saying so, he sat back down, leisurely savoring the red wine in his cup.
Ann Vaughn saw his normal complexion but didn’t lower her guard around him.
After all, he is a...
Warren chuckled lightly and raised his right hand, openly revealing the thing wrapped around his wrist to her, "Do you miss Sweetie too?"
A transparent White Mamba Snake coiled tightly around his wrist, flicking its bright red forked tongue, leaning forward to approach Ann Vaughn.
How on earth is it sweet!
Ann’s face turned pale, "Put it away!!"
"You’re afraid of it?" Warren tapped Sweetie’s head with his finger, "She doesn’t like you, go play by yourself."
Sweetie twisted its body, reluctantly coiling back around Warren’s wrist, its mouth facing its tail.
Only then did Ann breathe a sigh of relief, turning to see all the curtains in the room drawn tightly, even the skylight covered.
Aside from the candlelight on the table, no outside light penetrated.
"Are you a vampire? You’re so afraid of the light." Ann’s mouth twitched, perhaps because he didn’t intend to harm her, the fear in her heart slightly eased.
Though she never put down her guard against him.
Warren looked at her, his dark red eyes seemingly carrying other meanings, "I am, are you scared?"
"Well, that’s certainly nice." Hearing this, Ann relaxed and patted her chest, "Humans and ghosts are destined for separate paths, we’re meant to stay apart."
She still remembers how Warren used to grip her hand, repeating "You belong to me; from the very beginning you did" with inexplicable absurdity.
They’ve known each other for only a few years, yet he speaks as if they’ve known each other forever.
Perhaps those with delusions tend to have the common affliction of daydreaming?
In Ann Vaughn’s eyes, Warren Vance was the picture of a delusional person.
"Separate paths for humans and ghosts?" Warren sipped his wine, contemplatively, "You’re willing to be with cats and dogs, why not with me?"
Ann nearly choked on his words, "If you could turn into a cat or dog, I might raise you."
"That’s racial discrimination." Warren promptly declared.
"... How on earth am I racially discriminatory? Who am I discriminating against?"
Was he born a few sandwiches short of a picnic?
She wondered why she hadn’t realized it before.
Warren ignored her, finished his glass of wine, then stood, muttering to himself, "Am I worse than cats and dogs?"
"What did you say?" Ann didn’t catch his words, but feared he might suddenly have Sweetie attack her, so she didn’t approach.
"Nothing." Warren glanced at her clenched hand, a hint of hurt flashing in his dark red eyes, "Be careful not to prick yourself. My blade points to the world, but never at you."
Ann blinked in slight surprise, her fingers clutching the Golden Needle tightening further.
Then she cautiously asked, "Can I leave now?"
"No."
"..."
If it weren’t for the fact he helped her this time, Ann would have wanted to run over and yank the curtains open, letting him pay the price in moonlight.
Or maybe sunlight would be more effective?
Seeing Ann’s reluctance, Warren frowned, "Are you that unwilling to stay with me? I can give you gold, jewels, flowers, necklaces, castles, gardens, anything you want, I can find for you."
Ann instantly flashed a polite smile at him, "I want sunlight, the kind at 60 degrees Celsius."
"..."
Negotiation failed, Warren left the room silently.
The man in red immediately stepped forward, respectfully bowing his head, "Sir."