Chapter 277: Chapter 277: Did She Bully Someone?
He gazed at Ann Vaughn intently for several seconds until she felt a growing chill emanating from him, sending shivers down her spine.
The frigid air around him suddenly dissipated almost completely, and then he turned and left.
Though he just moved to sit in the living room and changed channels with the remote, wearing an aloof expression that screamed "do not approach" as he started watching——
Crayon Shin-chan.
Ann Vaughn: "..."
Though thinking this way didn’t seem quite right.
Had she bullied him??
An eerie silence spread from the living room, with no one taking the initiative to speak.
Just as Ann Vaughn sat in the bean bag sofa, feeling inexplicably guilty, the doorbell rang.
Ignoring the frosty glance from Cyrus Hawthorne, she got up to open the door, and sure enough, Mark Joyce had arrived.
As Mark Joyce walked into the living room, he saw his boss’s face so dark it seemed like it could drip ink, shooting him a cold glance.
He instantly wished he could disappear from the scene.
"President Hawthorne, I—I’m here to take you to the company. There’s an important meeting that requires your presence this morning..." Mark Joyce steeled himself to speak, feeling like he was about to meet a bloody end.
Cyrus Hawthorne was unmoved, as if he hadn’t heard him, his gaze fixated, serious, on the LCD screen.
Bringing a cup of water, Ann Vaughn saw Mark Joyce looking like he was about to cry and couldn’t help but say, "You haven’t been to the company in days, surely there’s a pile of things waiting for you to handle."
"If everything requires my handling, what are they there for?" Cyrus Hawthorne’s thin lips slightly parted, spitting out words that were icy and sharp.
Mark Joyce felt like an arrow had pierced his chest, and said with a bitter face, "But the meeting can’t proceed without your presence..."
Moreover, even he didn’t know what this meeting was about.
It was originally scheduled to be announced at the morning meeting the day after President Hawthorne’s incident, but because of those events, it was postponed to today.
If President Hawthorne doesn’t go...
Wait!
Mark Joyce looked at Ann Vaughn and suddenly had a stroke of inspiration, forcing a smile on his otherwise expressionless face, "Miss Vaughn, could I trouble you with a matter?"
Ann Vaughn, pondering how to get rid of the Buddha-like presence of Cyrus Hawthorne so her little bun could come home, instinctively responded to Mark Joyce’s words, "What?"
Forty minutes later.
The little bun lay by the edge of the balcony railing, biting his lip and watching the black Maybach downstairs drive further away, his soft, cute face puffing in anger.
"So bad! It’s bad enough to occupy my home but to take Mommy too!"
He and the Archfiend are irreconcilable!
Sherry looked at Kenny, who was lying there like a little panda bun, his face red with anger, and couldn’t help but chuckle.
"Your mommy won’t be taken away. She’s got everything under control."
"Says who?" Kenny stomped his foot in anger, thinking of everything he learned about that man Rowley last night, "The Archfiend is too cunning, using his memory loss to get close to Mommy!"
"Is that so? Well then, if your daddy and Uncle Jennings both fell into the water, who would you save first, Kenny?"
Rarely seeing Kenny show such a childish side, Sherry couldn’t resist stirring the pot a bit.
But unexpectedly, Kenny blinked his beautiful big eyes and smiled cunningly, "Kenny is just a baby, not strong enough to save adults."
Sherry choked for a moment, then laughed, this clever little devil.
Meanwhile.
The black Maybach’s interior filled with gentle, soothing music, urging one to relax.
Cyrus Hawthorne was using his computer to handle the backlog of documents from the past few days, his long, jade-like fingers tapping swiftly on the keyboard, his expression serene, the line of his profile perfect enough to make hearts race.
Now and then he would instruct Mark Joyce, who sat in the front seat, about work-related priorities, with not a single superfluous word, clear and direct.
Mark Joyce initially thought that President Hawthorne’s amnesia would lead to him forgetting work matters, so he had prepared detailed explanations of important documents overnight.
But as it turned out, they weren’t needed at all.
Indeed, your boss is still your boss, even with amnesia.
Sitting nearby, Ann Vaughn’s mind was a bit foggy, still unable to comprehend why she succumbed to Cyrus Hawthorne’s gaze and nodded to accompany him to the company.
By the time she figured it out, she was already in the car.
She couldn’t help but hold her head in her hands, just as her phone buzzed twice, prompting her to take a look.
Skipping the unimportant messages, Ann Vaughn focused on the conversation between Quinn and Silas Kane.
Quinn had informed her that Luke was awake and getting better, thanking her for the herbal concoction that had been helping him recover over the past two days. Luke wanted to thank her in person.
Silas Kane assured her that he had taken care of those "resurrected" rumors, ensuring they wouldn’t cause further trouble.
No wonder the reporters who had been stalking outside Azure Gardens had disappeared.
Ann Vaughn’s eyes lit up with a faint smile as she tapped away a reply to them.
Just as she was playing with her phone, almost forgetting she was in a car and not her living room, she felt a gaze fixed on her face.
Instinctively, Ann Vaughn looked up, only to find Cyrus Hawthorne had stopped working and was now staring at her with his deep, unfathomable eyes.
"What’s wrong?" Ann Vaughn couldn’t help but touch her cheek, "Is there something on my face?"
"Yeah, sort of." He nodded slightly.
"What is it?"
"A bit of beauty."
"..."
Whoa!
Ann Vaughn’s cheeks flushed red, since when had he started using such sappy lines?!
"Did you lose your memory or swap your brain? Where did you learn to say such things?"
"That red book on your bedside." Cyrus Hawthorne’s eyes revealed a flicker of an elusive smile as he shifted his gaze back to his computer.
The red book on her bedside?
Ann Vaughn was momentarily puzzled before she recalled what book it was and wished she could burrow her head into her collar!
The "Ultimate Guide to Flirting with Guys"!
He must have seen it!
"I... who gave you permission to mess with my stuff? Don’t you know that’s invading someone’s privacy?!" Ann Vaughn was both embarrassed and annoyed, yet assumed a fierce posture, feeling like she finally caught him in the act.
But truthfully, she felt vulnerable inside.
"That’s my mistake." Cyrus Hawthorne nodded slightly, admitting his fault without a hint of hesitation.
So straightforward that it left Ann Vaughn’s pre-planned accusations stuck in her throat, making her uncomfortable.
"It is your fault." She muttered softly, lowering her eyes, tempted to chop off the hand that got her the book in a raffle.
Others win trips to Aethelgard for seven days, stays at hot spring hotels, or at the very least, a big gift pack of snacks.