Chapter 372: Chapter 372: Leading by Example Through Words and Actions
Kenny, who was being lightly but seemingly heavily rubbed on the head, was taken aback, his large eyes staring at Cyrus Hawthorne in surprise, before they transformed into a hint of delight.
"Hmph, let’s just say what you said is true!"
...
The master bedroom on the third floor.
Only a single floor lamp was left on in the room, casting a shadow over the shape of the little woman dozing off in bed.
Soon, the abrupt ringing of a cellphone startled Ann Vaughn just as she was falling into sleep.
She fumbled to answer the phone and placed it to her ear, her eyes tightly shut, "Hello?"
"Is this Miss Ann Vaughn?" A distinctly authoritative male voice transmitted through the phone to Ann’s ears, making her open her eyes in confusion.
"Yes, this is she. Who are you?"
"I am Stanley Sheridan, Eli Sheridan’s father. You might have heard of me."
Stanley Sheridan?
Ann’s brain, still fogged from sleep, took a moment to catch up and she remained silent for quite a while.
Then she sat up in bed, filled with questions, and asked, "What do you need from me?"
Despite her dislike for this top tycoon who would do anything for his daughter, Ann patiently listened because of her friendship with Eli Sheridan.
"It’s like this, I’ve heard a lot about Miss Vaughn from Elliot, and I know you’re good friends with him." Stanley Sheridan said warmly, "Coincidentally, Elliot’s birthday is approaching, and I’d like to take this opportunity to invite Miss Vaughn to join us in celebrating his birthday."
"It’s just some family and friends gathering. If Miss Vaughn doesn’t find it too abrupt, I’d love for you to come."
Originally, Ann Vaughn assumed Cynthia’s biological father would be unreasonable, prone to bullying with his power; otherwise, why would he cause her so much trouble?
But listening to this Mr. Sheridan speak, calling him a gentleman wouldn’t be an exaggeration, as each word left no discomfort.
Is he perhaps bipolar??
Moreover, she didn’t think she was important enough for Stanley Sheridan to personally call and invite her.
"Thank you for your kind invitation. If I can spare the time that day, I’ll certainly attend." Ann Vaughn didn’t immediately agree, to avoid unforeseen changes.
Though her relationship with Eli Sheridan was so close they could have been sworn siblings, her relationship with the Sheridan Family seemed inherently at odds, clashing repeatedly with toxic results.
That could be lethal.
"Then I look forward to your arrival." Stanley Sheridan’s voice held a trace of regret, but he didn’t force anything, and he hung up after speaking.
Ann Vaughn stared at her phone in thought but couldn’t figure out why Stanley Sheridan would invite her to Eli Sheridan’s birthday party.
Logically, shouldn’t Elliot be the one to invite her?
Unable to figure it out, she decided not to think about it. She pulled back the covers to get out of bed when suddenly the bathroom door opened, and a tall, well-built figure emerged from within, draped in a long trail of steam.
He was wearing only a black silk robe, the lapels half open, revealing two enticing clavicles, while his wheat-colored chest seemed to glow with a layer of moisture, making him undeniably alluring.
Ann Vaughn’s motion to get out of bed stopped abruptly, she glanced at the doorway, then at Cyrus Hawthorne, blurting out without forethought, "How did you get in here?!"
She was sure she had locked the door!
Hearing her question, Cyrus Hawthorne lifted his gaze, droplets of water clinging to his ink-black hair sliding down his sharply defined brow bone, caught by his long, tasse-like lashes.
With a stride of his long legs, he walked to the bedside, positioning his hands beside Ann, who was sitting at the edge of the bed, his narrow eyes squinting at her instinctive backward lean.
"What did she say to you?"
Ann Vaughn immediately resisted, attempting to crawl to the other side of the bed, but before she reached the end, a warm hand grasped her ankle, pulling her back like capturing a runaway little turtle.
These two even share the same escape tactics; when one gets unhappy, they turn and run.
There was a hint of helplessness in Cyrus Hawthorne’s eyes; no wonder he felt a strong sense of familiarity when he first met Kenny.
After pulling Ann Vaughn back, he didn’t loosen his grip on her beautifully arched foot, small and fair, to prevent her from trying to flee again.
"You need not fear her; she holds no real power within the Hawthorne Family." He sat at the edge of the bed, speaking in a calm voice.
This sentence was nothing short of telling Ann Vaughn that no matter how Laura Quinn bullied her, she could retaliate fully, even if that person was Laura.
Because the current head of the Hawthorne Family, the one holding true power, was her man.
Ann Vaughn’s delicate brows frowned as she couldn’t break free from his grip, feeling a bit defeated, "So what?"
Hearing her words of defiance, Cyrus Hawthorne suddenly reached out and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her into his embrace, lightly but securely restricting her movements. His chin rested atop her soft, furry hair, and he spoke softly.
"Have you heard of oppressing others with authority?"
"What?"
He chuckled softly, exhaling near her ear, "Use your husband’s power to bully those who bully you back mercilessly."
What... husband!
Ann Vaughn’s breath hitched, a rising blush being suppressed by the heavy fact of their divorce, causing her body to tense.
He didn’t even bother telling her the truth, so wasn’t saying this now too irresponsible?
Thinking of this, Ann Vaughn pursed her red lips, intending to push Cyrus Hawthorne’s hand away, when she heard his increasingly deep, amused voice once more, "But I think learning by example suits you better."
"What do you mean... mm!" Before Ann Vaughn could figure out what he meant by "learning by example," she was suddenly pulled back onto the bed behind her.
Without giving her a chance to protest, Cyrus Hawthorne leaned over, sealing her remaining words with a kiss, his long ink-black eyes seemingly igniting two hidden flames.
Since she refused to speak, he’d simply act.
Just so direct and straightforward.
Soon, Ann Vaughn’s once snow-like skin became covered with a layer of inviting pink, with a fleeting pain causing her brows to knit tightly, only to relax shortly after.
Her beautiful eyes held a dreamy haze, a mix of accusation and bashfulness, which made one want to bully her even harsher.
"Don’t look at me with those eyes, you know I can’t resist." Cyrus Hawthorne’s voice was slightly husky, mingled with intense, searing emotions.
A thin layer of sweat appeared on his forehead, moderating his strength as he waited for her to adapt, yet the impact of each motion was strong enough to intimidate.
Ann Vaughn’s cheeks flushed red, her body soft as if it melted into a puddle, unable to muster any resistance, her mind a mixture of embarrassment and anger.
Unable to resist, beneath the pretense of kissing her, he was merely finding excuses!
Just as electric tingles rose from her tailbone, leaving her brain blank, she heard a devilish voice sounding at her ear.
"Alright, let’s talk about what mother actually said to you."
Ann Vaughn: !!! Never seen such a opportunist!