Chapter 224: Chapter 224: Cynthia Vaughn Is Still Alive
Would Cyrus Hawthorne have cared if she was sick or alive in the past? Would he have stayed specially to take care of her just because she got sick?
Clearly, don’t even think about it.
Thinking of this, Ann Vaughn inevitably thought of someone.
Cynthia Vaughn.
Since she returned to the country until now, not only has she not seen her once, but she also hasn’t heard a bit of news about her.
Logically speaking, four years ago, when Cyrus Hawthorne replaced her with the news of Cynthia Vaughn’s death, making the outside world think she was still alive, it indicated that Cynthia Vaughn was very likely deceased because she didn’t undergo a heart transplant.
But if we really put it that way...
Ann Vaughn took out her phone from her pocket, clicked a few times, and searched for a photo.
It was exactly the scene from four years ago when Cynthia Vaughn pretended to be her at a funeral.
Even though there was a layer of black veil, Ann Vaughn could recognize this woman’s face no matter what.
Cynthia Vaughn wasn’t dead as rumored, just missing.
Though they were biological sisters, they were more like mortal enemies with no reason.
So, why was Cynthia Vaughn alive even after not undergoing a heart transplant?
For some reason, Ann Vaughn always felt that the events of four years ago were not as simple as they appeared on the surface, and there were too many doubts about Cynthia Vaughn’s heart disease alone.
Not understanding it left her unwilling.
After getting ready, Ann Vaughn went out but didn’t see Cyrus Hawthorne in the room. She was planning to leave but then saw Cyrus Hawthorne’s phone on the table.
She walked over, cautiously glanced at the doorway, and then looked at the phone.
An eight-digit password was needed to unlock it.
Ann Vaughn thought for a moment and entered several possible numbers, all showing errors. If she was wrong again, the phone would automatically lock.
"Could it be..." Ann Vaughn murmured, then tentatively entered her birth date.
A light beep sounded, the password was correct.
Ann Vaughn: "..." A coincidence, it must be only a coincidence.
The phone interface was very clean and simple, at a glance, Ann Vaughn found nothing related to virus research inside.
At this time, a text message from an unknown number appeared on Ann Vaughn’s screen.
"Sir, there’s a possibility that number 9 may regain consciousness, do we need to take action?"
Number 9?
Ann Vaughn rubbed her earlobe, her delicate brows inadvertently frowning. Was this a place name or a person’s code?
But somehow she felt this "number 9" sounded familiar, as if somewhere in The Imperial Capital...
At this time, the phone in Ann Vaughn’s hand was suddenly taken away, and above her head came Cyrus Hawthorne’s slightly teasing voice, "So interested in my private affairs?"
Ann Vaughn’s back stiffened, a hint of guilt flashed in her eyes caught in wrongdoing, she avoided his eyes.
"Not really curious, it’s just that my phone was dead, and I wanted to use yours for a call."
"Is that so?" Cyrus Hawthorne chuckled softly, his narrow eyes glanced at the phone interface, just catching the message, his eyes slightly narrowed, "Breakfast is ready, go downstairs."
Not a word mentioned about Ann Vaughn touching his phone without permission.
If Mark Joyce were here, he might sigh with relief, lucky that Miss Vaughn wasn’t a corporate spy.
Ann Vaughn pursed her red lips, her gaze lingered on his phone for two seconds, then she proceeded to leave the room.
She memorized that number silently in her heart while walking downstairs.
After she left, Cyrus Hawthorne narrowed his eyes and opened the phone, clicked on that message again, and his gaze instantly turned icy cold.
Downstairs, Cyrus Hawthorne saw an old and young pair already eating at the dining table, especially Ann Vaughn, her small mouth stuffed full, bright-eyed and smiling, just looking at her made one feel...
Quite appetizing.
After he sat down, the butler brought his breakfast as well, placing it in front of him.
Cyrus Hawthorne glanced at the plate of ice pastry, cleared his throat, and seemed to casually say, "Is there any ginger soup and snow pear paste left from last night? My throat feels a bit uncomfortable."
"Mr. Hawthorne, the ones you made last night are gone; I’ll make them for you later," the butler immediately replied.
Cyrus Hawthorne responded faintly, his gaze drifting toward Ann Vaughn, but she was indifferent as if she hadn’t heard.
His voice suddenly deepened, "No need, the smell doesn’t agree with me."
Butler: ??? A man’s heart is an unpredictable needle at the bottom of the ocean.
After breakfast, Ann Vaughn learned the mountain road was passable, paid no heed to Cyrus Hawthorne’s extremely cold expression, bid farewell to Old Master Hawthorne, and drove away from Cloudmere Manor.
Once Ann Vaughn left, Old Master Hawthorne’s kindly smile disappeared instantly, and he slapped the back of his own grandson with a backhand, glaring at him in exasperation.
"Annie tolerated you for so long, truly unbelievable, and you don’t even try to keep her, who’s your cold face meant to scare?"
"Grandpa." Cyrus Hawthorne’s handsome brows carried some frustration, "Are you really my grandfather?"
"Haha, good question," Old Master Hawthorne laughed heartily, "I shouldn’t have picked you up from the roadside back then; otherwise, you’d be the death of me!"
"..."
"Let me tell you, Annie is different now. Back then, her eyes and heart only had you in them. Sometimes, even I, an old man, felt guilty for taking such a good girl."
"But you messed up, tore her heart apart, nearly cost her life... I’m tired of talking about it. Now Annie sees you neither in her eyes nor in her heart, serves you right."
Old Master Hawthorne shook his head, holding a few walnuts in his hand, walking into the manor, seemingly in a good mood.
Not at all aware of stabbing his own grandson’s feelings.
After hearing Old Master Hawthorne’s words, Cyrus Hawthorne’s brows furrowed tighter and his eyelids lowered, hiding the faint mockery in his gaze.
Was the Ann Vaughn of the past focused solely on him?
Yet the person she loved and waited for fifteen years from start to finish was never him.
To let the one he loves, deeply in love with another man—
This is probably the greatest punishment for mistaking love and giving his heart to the wrong person.
On the mountain road.
Ann Vaughn thought of what Old Master Hawthorne said to her quietly when they parted. She couldn’t help but rub the spot with her palm, letting out a light sigh.
"Grandpa knows you suffered a lot four years ago and knows that if it weren’t for grandpa insisting on Cyrus marrying you, you wouldn’t have ended up like this today, grandpa owes an apology to your grandpa, even more to you."
"I’m not saying this to ask you to forgive Cyrus, nor to absolve him or push you back together."
"It’s just, girl, back then, Cyrus was too arrogant, too confident in what his own eyes and ears saw and heard, and thus made mistake after mistake. Grandpa doesn’t want you to be the same way."