Chapter 336: Chapter 336: Sending Ann Vaughn Away
"Cough, cough, cough—" Mark Joyce in the front seat almost choked, coughing violently several times, awkwardly saying, "Miss Vaughn, do you need a sobering pill?"
"No need, I’m not drunk, why would I need to take medicine? Do you think I can’t handle my liquor?"
"I wouldn’t dare, absolutely not, you’re definitely not drunk!" Mark Joyce quickly denied, going along with her words.
But would a drunkard ever admit they’re drunk?
Ann Vaughn stuck her neck out and shouted, "Of course I’m not drunk! It’s Cyrus who’s drunk! He’s already drowned in gentleness! You should throw him into the water to sober up!"
"No, Miss Vaughn, I think there must be some misunderstanding here..."
"No misunderstanding! I don’t care what you think, I care about what I think!" Ann Vaughn angrily punched a pillow, her rosy cheeks full of ferocity, "You tell me, why are you smiling at those women!"
After saying that, she seamlessly changed to a deep voice, imitating Cyrus Hawthorne’s tone, "Heh, what does that have to do with you?"
"Bastard!"
Seeing the pillow being pummeled flat by Ann Vaughn through the rearview mirror, Mark Joyce couldn’t help but shiver a bit.
The key was that no matter how he called Ann Vaughn, she ignored him, treating the pillow in her hands as if it were Cyrus Hawthorne, venting her anger on it.
Even Mark Joyce couldn’t help but feel sorry for the pillow.
It was only when Ann Vaughn got tired from hitting and let out a burp, collapsing dizzily onto the pillow, that she seemed to be murmuring something.
"Actually, you may have misunderstood President Hawthorne..." Mark Joyce attempted to salvage the BOSS’s image in the future first lady’s mind, "President Hawthorne has always been proper. The number of women around him can be counted on one hand. Could you be misunderstanding something?"
"No misunderstanding, what I see is the reality!" Ann Vaughn, whose spirits had just died down, immediately got energetic again, tightly hugging the pillow in her arms, her eyelids still glistening from the hiccups.
She looked petite and pitiable, making it hard for anyone to criticize her even if they were displeased.
"I don’t care at all." Ann Vaughn puffed her cheeks, her eyes shimmering with anger, "I don’t like him at all, nor do I care which woman he’s gentle with or smiles at. Even if he’s with another woman, I wouldn’t care!"
The more she said, the more she felt like a jar of vinegar had been overturned in her heart, bubbling with sourness.
"I have long loved someone deeply. Even without him, I will happily spend my life with the person I love. As for Cyrus Hawthorne, he can go on with his floral beauties!"
The car fell into a few seconds of eerie silence.
Just as Ann Vaughn proudly puffed out her chest, thinking she was incredibly cool.
She suddenly heard Mark Joyce’s trembling voice reminding her, "Miss Vaughn, actually the car’s communication has been connected to President Hawthorne’s phone the whole time. He heard everything you just said..."
Boom!
Ann Vaughn’s mind burst with a bang, her heavy intoxication somewhat dissipated, and her entire body became stiff.
So, everything she had just said... had been heard by Cyrus Hawthorne?!
Damn Mark Joyce, why didn’t he remind her sooner!!
Mark Joyce was bitter. He wanted to say it, but every time he was just interrupted by Miss Vaughn and couldn’t speak.
However, in a flash, a series of conflicted, complicated, and helpless emotions flashed across Ann Vaughn’s flushed little face, her mind racing to figure out what to do.
Then, the next second, she closed her eyes and lay back on the rear seat, no longer moving.
"Miss Vaughn?" Seeing this, Mark Joyce tentatively called out to Ann Vaughn. Seeing she still didn’t move, he had to suppress the urge to laugh and report to the communication device, "President Hawthorne, Miss Vaughn is asleep."
Yet, from the connected communication device came a deep, chilly voice, "Heh."
It was as cold as the winter wind, making one shiver involuntarily.
Lying in the back seat, Ann Vaughn shrank her neck from the cold, daring not to open her eyes.
It’s true what they say.
Some people talk themselves to death.
...
In the Hawthorne Family villa, the bright and clean living room was filled with an intimidating coldness, as if swept through by a snowstorm.
And at the center of the storm, Cyrus Hawthorne sat on the sofa with his long legs crossed, spinning his wrist, and accurately threw the black phone into the living room trash can.
Already long loved someone deeply? Plan to spend a lifetime with him?
Instantly, an unstoppable wildfire of anger ignited within Cyrus Hawthorne’s chest, threatening to burn everything and almost consuming all his remaining rationality.
Even though he had already known this fact, hearing it directly from Ann Vaughn’s mouth was far more potent than his own conjecture.
Cyrus Hawthorne closed his cold eyes heavily, the fierce and intimidating aura around him seemed to turn into a sharp blade, stirring up a bloodbath again.
Does Ann Vaughn think she’s got him so wrapped around her finger that she’s so fearless?
The servants standing by in the living room lowered their heads even more, trembling, not daring to breathe loudly.
"Cian, you came back just in time." Laura Quinn, just coming down the stairs, saw Cyrus Hawthorne sitting in the living room with a terrible look on his face. Remembering what had happened earlier, she walked in with a stern face, "I have something to show you."
Cyrus Hawthorne slightly opened his narrow eyes, the dark storm brewing in his eyes still lingering, making people wary.
Thinking about other matters, Laura Quinn only felt that the living room was a bit cold. After asking a servant to check the heating, she took a pile of photos out of her bag.
These photos looked like they were taken secretly, mostly from a distance or in a side angle.
As for the scenes in the photos, they were of Ann Vaughn holding Kenny, either coming out of the kindergarten or the apartment.
"This woman already has a child with another man, yet she shamelessly wants to seduce you, it’s simply disgraceful!" Laura Quinn said coldly, with disdain in her eyes, "Keeping her in The Imperial Capital could lead to more trouble. I have an idea."
Cyrus Hawthorne glanced at the photos, his expression indifferent.
Although the child in the pictures only had a side view, Kenny’s naturally good looks, like a porcelain doll, were unforgettable once seen.
Every time he saw Kenny’s soft and proud little face, a strange feeling would grow in Cyrus Hawthorne’s heart.
But what exactly that meant was still unclear.
"Send Ann Vaughn to Mordane. Her parents are there, she can be reunited with her family, and we’ll have done her a favor. It’s better than keeping her in the capital and constantly vexing me," Laura Quinn decided.
Hearing this, Cyrus Hawthorne curved his lips slightly, with a faint, chilly smile, "For mother’s sake, I won’t ask where these things came from."
"Not everything is as mother thinks, and I don’t want to hear this mentioned a second time. Please understand that."