Chapter 242: Chapter 242: Sober as a Bunny, Drunk as a T-Rex
"Let me tell you, in this world, there’s nothing more lovable than you, right? I just want to take you home and hide you away."
Ann Vaughn half-squatted on the ground, holding a bottle of wine in her arms, smiling foolishly at the bottle, making others want to cover their faces for her.
"I need some peace... why did the goddess suddenly go crazy?" The boy, who had just crowned Ann Vaughn as his number one goddess in his heart, wished he could erase this memory.
"I’m telling you, there’re only fifteen minutes left. Ann Vaughn, can you really call him here or not?" Doris Dunn glanced at the time and sneered, "Exactly, Mr. Hawthorne doesn’t even answer your calls, how could he possibly care about you?"
It’s truly amusing. Who doesn’t know that after Ann Vaughn divorced Mr. Hawthorne, she went abroad, claiming it was for rest and recuperation.
To put it bluntly, it’s exile.
Just now, Ann Vaughn tried calling for so long without anyone picking up, indicating that, in Mr. Hawthorne’s heart, she doesn’t even have the right to call him.
However, Ann Vaughn paid no attention to this, hugging her wine bottle and laughing foolishly, making others break out in a sweat.
"Doris Dunn, don’t go too far," Yasmine Warren stood up to speak for Ann Vaughn, "Isn’t there still fifteen minutes left?"
Though she didn’t believe Ann Vaughn could get Mr. Hawthorne to come here, she couldn’t stand idly by and watch Ann Vaughn be humiliated by Doris Dunn.
If it doesn’t work out, we’ll find another way.
Didn’t Doris Dunn go to film in some remote areas, not even keeping up with recent news, not considering whether her status can afford to offend Ann Vaughn?
Hope she doesn’t drag us down with her.
"Now or fifteen minutes later, the result is the same. Can’t you see she’s resigned to it herself? She’s drinking to muster courage." Doris Dunn laughed mockingly twice and sat back down.
As time ticked away, even those who initially supported Ann Vaughn began to feel uneasy.
There’re only fifteen minutes left, and Ann Vaughn hasn’t even made a call. Could she have already given up?
But looking at Ann Vaughn’s carefree demeanor, playing drinking games with people, almost overpowering men, exuding a commanding presence, they couldn’t help but fall silent.
— Maybe she didn’t take it seriously from the start.
Five minutes left, and Doris Dunn’s eyes practically brimmed with smugness, "Looks like I’ve won. Some people shouldn’t pretend to have what they don’t have the means to back up..."
"Ann Vaughn."
Before Doris Dunn could finish her pretentious words, a cold and deep voice suddenly interrupted her, followed by a striking silhouette backlit at the doorway.
Cyrus Hawthorne’s deep, dark eyes swept through the room, finally settling on the figure in a white starlit fairy dress, sleeves rolled up, playing drinking games with a group of men and women —
Little brat!
Cyrus Hawthorne’s face darkened instantly as if ink could drip from it, his thin lips pressed into a line, and his narrow eyes filled with shadows, as though they could absorb all the light and extinguish it.
He let her leave his sight, gave her plenty of freedom, but not to drink with other men!
And look at the state she’s in!
As Cyrus Hawthorne walked straight towards Ann Vaughn, Doris Dunn’s previously smug and arrogant face turned as white as a faded painting out of horror.
She once had the privilege to meet Mr. Hawthorne at a business cocktail party, she couldn’t possibly mistake him!
But, but how could this happen...
"Come on, why’re you guys chickening out? If you don’t drink, I will..." Ann Vaughn hadn’t noticed that the surrounding sounds had suddenly died down, and everyone’s expressions had changed.
She picked up a newly opened bottle of wine and boldly tried to pour it into her mouth.
Before she could take a sip, her arm was suddenly grabbed by a hand, and the bottle was snatched away from her.
Ann Vaughn was startled and tried to grab the bottle back, but heard a familiar, cold voice next to her ear, "Ann Vaughn, try taking another sip if you dare?"
"Mmm." Ann Vaughn gazed through her foggy eyes for a while before recognizing the shadow resembling a looming dark cloud, pouting her red lips, "Who are you? You don’t brew wine, what right do you have to control whether I drink or not?"
Cyrus Hawthorne’s eyes were cold and deep, showing no intent to reason with her. He snatched away the wine bottle she was clutching like a treasure and put it on the table.
Then his gaze swept over the people present, and he asked in a deep voice, "Why is she drinking? Who gave her the alcohol?"
Ann Vaughn has always had a poor alcohol tolerance, not inclined to drink, especially not in such a setting; the possibility of her drinking on her own was very low.
The strong yet cool aura he exuded intimidated everyone, not daring to even meet his gaze, let alone respond.
It was Yasmine Warren, afraid Mr. Hawthorne might misunderstand, who quickly stood up to explain, "No, Mr. Hawthorne, Annie probably mistook a cocktail for a soft drink and drank it by mistake. And she’s in a bad mood, we couldn’t persuade her otherwise..."
A naive bunny before drinking, a fierce dragon after.
Couldn’t more accurately describe Ann Vaughn.
We just couldn’t handle her pinning each person down to play games and drink!
"In a bad mood?" Cyrus Hawthorne looked down at Ann Vaughn, whose cheeks were flushed attractively, his internal fury surging like a flood yet outwardly calm as a lake.
"Yes, yes, I don’t know the exact reason, maybe because..." Yasmine Warren couldn’t help but glance at Doris Dunn, speaking with steely resolve, "Because of a bet."
"What bet?"
Upon hearing Cyrus Hawthorne’s question, Doris Dunn’s face turned even paler; she hadn’t dared to speak since realizing that Cyrus Hawthorne might hold her accountable.
Yet, she didn’t expect it to still come to this.
Yasmine Warren didn’t hide the bet between Ann Vaughn and Doris Dunn, and after she finished the explanation, she almost couldn’t stand steadily from trembling.
Mr. Hawthorne’s expression... looked like he could devour someone.
"Oh?" Cyrus Hawthorne’s narrow eyes coldly glanced at Doris Dunn, as though wrapped in an icy cold front, "Who won?"
"You came in right at the last two minutes, so, Annie won..."
Upon hearing this, Cyrus Hawthorne let out a low chuckle; however, his gaze on Doris Dunn was utterly devoid of warmth, "You’re lucky I didn’t have to intervene personally."
"Mr. Hawthorne, please let me explain..." Doris Dunn hurriedly tried to step forward but stopped under Cyrus Hawthorne’s icy glare.
"In that case, just like you promised Ann Vaughn, complete the bet for me," Cyrus Hawthorne’s thin lips curved with a coolness, "Otherwise, I don’t mind having someone assist you."
With that, he half-carried the dizzy Ann Vaughn out of the room, while the several black-suited bodyguards stationed outside stood at the door, glaring intently at Doris Dunn.
Doris Dunn’s face turned deathly pale, overwhelmed by a torrent of all kinds of embarrassing emotions, almost wishing she could die of shame.
If she’d only known it would end up like this, if she’d only known!
Why, oh why did she initially provoke Ann Vaughn?!