Chapter 229: Chapter 229: You Don’t Want to Wake Up Tomorrow
However, she quickly realized the gravity of her mistake.
Cyrus Hawthorne still refused to let her go.
The space in the car was already small, the outside air was bone-chilling cold, yet inside this confined space, it was burning hot as if it was about to catch fire.
"Cy... Cyrus Hawthorne... you bastard... hmm!" Before she could finish cursing, Ann Vaughn’s words were completely drowned out.
"Annie, remember this, I allow you to act recklessly in my world, even to the point of wickedness."
"But I absolutely do not allow you to leave my world, not even half a step. That’s my bottom line, do you understand?"
The man’s dangerously magnetic voice mixed with a sob-like sound that was as entrancing as the sound of strings, unexpectedly harmonious.
A distinct atmosphere still lingered within the car cabin.
Ann Vaughn half-lay in Cyrus Hawthorne’s arms.
Looking at her in this delicate and soft state, Cyrus Hawthorne stared at her for a few seconds, his Adam’s apple subtly moved.
"Are you okay?"
Ann Vaughn impatiently pushed his hand away, but because she didn’t have the strength, her actions were weak. Her voice was hoarse, "If it weren’t for you, would there be anything wrong with me?"
She couldn’t understand; hadn’t this man been with a woman in the past four years?
Why every time was worse than the last...
But at least she didn’t waste her incense; though Ann Vaughn was tormented, she consoled herself that maybe this time it would work.
Hearing this, the smile in Cyrus Hawthorne’s eyes deepened, his hand rubbing her waist a little more gently.
"As long as you don’t make me angry, naturally nothing will happen."
How not to make him angry, was self-evident.
Ann Vaughn directly rolled her eyes, too lazy to respond to such an unrealistic issue, comfortably letting him massage her.
Just then, Ann Vaughn’s phone, which was thrown under the car seat, rang again.
She was about to reach for it, but Cyrus Hawthorne was quicker and picked it up.
The name "Brother Shane" in large letters on the phone screen was extremely conspicuous.
"Give me my phone back... How dare you hang up my call?!" Seeing him hang up her call, Ann Vaughn’s face turned cold.
"Be good, you wouldn’t want to be unable to get up tomorrow." Cyrus Hawthorne tossed the phone to the back seat, holding Ann Vaughn’s restless little body closer, his voice soft.
"..."
Soon, the car stopped in front of a European-style villa.
Cyrus Hawthorne, carrying Ann Vaughn who was wrapped entirely in a windbreaker, got out of the car and strode up the villa stairs.
"The young master and Miss Vaughn are back." Uncle Dexter came to greet them; seeing Ann Vaughn being carried in by Cyrus Hawthorne, he smiled so widely his eyes almost vanished.
However, remembering the person inside, Uncle Dexter’s smile slightly faded, "Young master, your guest is waiting for you in the living room, the project group leader from the institute..."
The institute?
Covering her face with clothes to avoid Uncle Dexter noticing anything was wrong, Ann Vaughn’s ears perked up.
"Hmm." Cyrus Hawthorne responded flatly, carrying Ann Vaughn into the elevator, went to the second floor, and directly placed her on the main bedroom’s bed.
"You rest well here, I’ll come accompany you once I’m done, okay?" He bowed to kiss Ann Vaughn’s smooth forehead, then turned and left the room.
Ann Vaughn frowned, wiped her forehead, then took off the windbreaker coat she was wearing.
Saw her peacock feather cheongsam, a friendly gift from a friend, ripped into pieces, Ann Vaughn bit her lip hard, angrily punched Cyrus Hawthorne’s windbreaker.
"Pervert!"
She got off the bed, sluggishly moved to the walk-in closet, intending to temporarily wear one of Cyrus Hawthorne’s new pajamas.
But when she opened the cabinet door, what met her eyes was a row of trendy women’s clothing, along with shoes and bags.
So... did this man have such a fetish?
Ann Vaughn’s red lips curled into a cold smile, taking out her phone to snap a photo of the wardrobe, then casually picked a white cotton dress and headed to the bathroom.
After soaking in a hot bath for a while, Ann Vaughn changed and came out.
Unexpectedly, this dress fit her perfectly.
Ann Vaughn was silent for a moment, realizing what she misunderstood.
But that Cyrus Hawthorne would prepare clothes in her size in his walk-in closet was a possibility she never considered.
What benefit does this offer him?
Ann Vaughn shook her head, casting aside any unusual suspicions, lifted the quilt, and was about to lay down.
She couldn’t help but think of the "group leader" from the institute in the downstairs living room.
Ann Vaughn’s eyes turned, then she directly threw aside the quilt and headed outside the main bedroom.
But Cyrus Hawthorne and the group leader weren’t in the downstairs living room, Ann Vaughn pondered for a moment, her gaze fixing on the study room door tightly shut on the second floor.
In the study room.
"Mr. Hawthorne, here is the latest research data. It contains some content regarding the virus mutation, since there are differences in opinion between my team and me, I wanted to ask you to evaluate it..." Jane Sheridan placed a stack of documents on the desk, explaining her reason for coming in a businesslike manner.
Cyrus Hawthorne glanced over the documents, then indifferently said, "For such matters, you can directly report to Shane Shaw in the future."
Shane Shaw was the director of the QY Research Institute.
For an ordinary person, such an unfeeling statement might have caused shame or distress.
Jane Sheridan nodded earnestly, adding, "I’m new to the institute and don’t know many of the rules, that’s why I came at this hour to bother you about the report, it won’t happen again."
Cyrus Hawthorne gave no response, flipping through the documents for a while before saying, "Your view is indeed slightly better than Shane Shaw’s previous report, it’s approved."
"Thank you for the guidance, Mr. Hawthorne, I will work hard." Jane Sheridan showed a hint of delight and then stood up with dignity.
From her angle, she could see a small woman eavesdropping by the water pipe outside the window.