Chapter 194: Chapter 194: Ann Vaughn, Got You
The security personnel around the villa suddenly increased, and even inside, there were regular patrols.
During the day, Ann Vaughn watered the flowers and plants in the garden. Occasionally, she would find opportunities to stroll around the villa a few times, making it easier for her to escape when the time came.
Staying here any longer would greatly risk her identity being exposed; she couldn’t linger any further.
Soon, night fell.
The lights in the villa dimmed, and the servants all returned to the back, leaving only the security personnel patrolling the perimeter.
Using the cover of moonlight, Ann Vaughn slipped out of the servants’ quarters and headed straight for the back door of the villa. She was the last to leave and deliberately left the door unlocked.
Ann Vaughn stood by the door for a moment, waiting for her phone to emit a soft "tick." She glanced down.
Sutton Jennings: The surveillance equipment there should have been upgraded and cannot be destroyed, only interfered with. The patrol rotates every two minutes, giving you only one and a half minutes to go upstairs and prepare.
One and a half minutes.
Ann Vaughn swept her eyes up to the surveillance cameras on the walls around her. Not daring to delay, she stepped up and headed upstairs.
She timed her arrival at the master bedroom door and used a master key she had prepared in advance to unlock it, slipping into the room before the patrol arrived.
The room was filled with a rich incense smell. Just like the previous two times, the man lay in bed in a deep sleep, eyes tightly closed.
This time, Ann Vaughn had increased the dosage, determined to prevent a repeat of the previous mishaps.
She walked to the bay window, pulled back the curtains, picked up the incense ball she had thrown up from downstairs, and placed it on the table.
After finishing, she dusted off her hands and walked toward the large bed.
Ann Vaughn released the gas from the jacket she was wearing, and the large, bulky coat instantly seemed to shrink. She took it off and tossed it aside.
Looking at Cyrus Hawthorne, who was completely unconscious, Ann Vaughn’s red lips curled into a slight smirk, reaching out her hand toward him.
This time it should be foolproof—
Bam!
Just as Ann Vaughn’s hand was about to touch Cyrus Hawthorne’s collar, it was suddenly grabbed firmly by a large, well-defined hand!
Ann Vaughn was startled, her eyes wide open, her heart skipping a beat. Her eyes anxiously darted upward, unexpectedly meeting a pair of narrow eyes as deep as night!
The man who should have been in a deep sleep was somehow already awake, the grip on her slender wrist growing ever tighter.
How could this be?!
Before Ann Vaughn could figure out what went wrong, her wrist was forcibly tugged, and she uncontrollably fell toward him on the bed.
The next second, Cyrus Hawthorne flipped over, completely pinning Ann Vaughn under him within the confines of the narrow space!
His fingers firmly pinned Ann Vaughn’s wrists to the sides of her head, his long legs tightly restraining her restless legs trying to escape, his narrow eyes fixed intently on her.
It was as if a deep and dark vortex could absorb one’s soul.
"Ann Vaughn, gotcha."
The low, husky voice came leisurely by Ann Vaughn’s ear, carrying an indescribable determination that sent shivers down her skin, her eyes filled with extreme terror.
What did he mean by this?!
Could it be that he had discovered her long ago, and only pretended not to act to lure her out?!
Ann Vaughn dared not delve into the terrifying implications of this, using both her hands and feet to push him away, yet he hugged her tighter and tighter.
The two were practically inseparable; to an outsider, it might look like an image of two lovers in a passionate embrace.
"Let go of me!" Ann Vaughn tried to lift her leg to kick him but couldn’t move, feeling his warm breath on her neck, making her shiver.
"Only if I’m dead." Cyrus Hawthorne paid no heed to Ann Vaughn’s resistance and struggles, holding her tightly as if he wanted to meld her into his own body, afraid to easily believe even though he felt her real body warmth.
Over the past four years, he’d had many similar dreams.
Yet every time he woke, his arms empty, his side cold, the room deathly silent, with no trace of her anywhere.
Disappointment accumulated until it turned into despair, rendering Cyrus Hawthorne’s heart numb and barren.
If the warmth in his arms now was also false...
A sudden hint of blood appeared in Cyrus Hawthorne’s deep eyes, and almost instinctively, he pressed his thin lips against Ann Vaughn’s pale neck, biting along her throbbing artery.
"Ah—"
Ann Vaughn cried out in pain, tears welling up in her clear eyes, struggling wildly, "Let go of me! Cyrus Hawthorne, are you a dog?!"
He wanted her dead so badly that he bit her neck’s artery?!
Though Cyrus Hawthorne’s bite was painful, it left nothing more than a faint tooth mark, with no bleeding.
Yet the moment Ann Vaughn’s angry words reached him, a bit of the chaos in his eyes suddenly dissipated, brightening up.
It was as if a barren, desolate place suddenly sprouted greenery, with springs bubbling forth, gradually rekindling new life.
All because of her.
And only because of her.
"Ann Vaughn—"
Cyrus Hawthorne slowly lifted his head from her neck, his thin lips grazing her soft skin as he was about to speak, but the pained look in his eyes froze suddenly, and the next moment he collapsed on her.
Ann Vaughn almost suffocated from his weight, finally squirming out of his arms, only to find his hands still gripping her wrists tightly.
No matter how Ann Vaughn struggled, she couldn’t pull her hands from his grip.
Ann Vaughn was utterly bewildered, wondering what went wrong with her incense and powder to make them either uncontrollable or ineffective on him.
Clearly, they worked flawlessly on others.
With considerable effort, Ann Vaughn pinched his hand’s acupoints a few times before he finally let go.
She breathed a sigh of relief, quickly got out of bed, cleaned up the traces left behind, and fled the room.
Little did she know that as she turned away, Cyrus Hawthorne, who had appeared unconscious, lifted his heavy eyelids, glaring almost painfully at the direction she left.
"Ann... Vaughn..."
Don’t go.
But under the potent effects of the powder, he soon fell completely unconscious.
If Ann Vaughn had witnessed this, she might have been amazed at his considerable self-control and spiritual power.
Outside the villa’s back door, hidden among the bushes.
Sutton Jennings had been waiting on the outskirts to meet Ann Vaughn as soon as he got the message, his roguish eyes fixed precisely on the master bedroom window, his mind in torment.
Contrary to expectations, Ann Vaughn, who was supposed to come out much later, deftly climbed over the outer railing, opened the car door, and sat in the passenger seat.
"Drive, quick!"
"What happened?" Sutton Jennings asked, pulling away as he drove.