Speaking of the Langdon Family, that Young Master Langdon who attempted to take liberties with Miss Vaughn, once so full of vigor and surrounded by admiration, is now just as humbled and downcast.
Not only has he lost the right to compete for inheritance, but he has also been removed from the family genealogy and cast out of the Langdon Family; everyone can trample on his face now.
"Don’t move!" Ann Vaughn suddenly spoke out, impatiently pushing away the person holding her. Her delicate brows were tightly knitted, and her small face was covered in fine sweat, already in so much pain that her consciousness was a bit hazy.
Cyrus Hawthorne stopped the action of trying to lay her comfortably on the car seat. Almost gingerly, he placed a cushion behind her waist, fearful of touching her wounds.
But her palms and arms, her legs, and slightly exposed fragrant shoulder were all injured. The brows of Cyrus Hawthorne furrowed tighter and tighter, his thin lips tightly pressed into a line, taut with anger.
"To the hospital."
"Yes!"
By the ti they reached the hospital, Ann Vaughn had already fallen into a deep sleep. The golden needle in her leg could only temporarily ease the injury but not relieve the pain, her hand already trembling too much to hold the needle.
The director personally ca out to greet them, and under the instructions of Cyrus Hawthorne, personally conducted a thorough examination for Ann Vaughn.
About more than an hour later.
"There is a slight fracture in the kneecap, the sprain in the ankle is quite severe, and the abrasions on the body will be fine as long as the dicine is applied on ti, but there might be scarring." The director almost wanted to take out a handkerchief to wipe his sweat.
Because each ti he spoke, the man’s expression in front of him grew colder and more somber, frightening to the point of chilling one’s guts.
"During this period, it’s best to use a wheelchair, avoid strenuous activities, and try not to touch the injured areas..." Although scared, the director still had to give his advice, even if his old back almost dared not straighten anymore.
"Mm." After a long ti, a deep, hoarse sound finally escaped from Cyrus Hawthorne’s throat, his hands hanging at his side gradually clenched into fists, eyes black as ink seed like the vortex swirling at the center of the sea, deep and fearso.
Inside the ward.
Ann Vaughn woke up when a nurse was applying dicine, pulled out the golden needle from her sleeve, and stuck it several tis in the acupuncture points of her leg, finally reducing the obvious pain significantly.
"Miss, doing this is not conducive to the recovery of your legs, our hospital’s dical services are top-notch, please cooperate with us."
Unbeknownst to her, this action appeared to the nurse as nothing short of an act of self-infliction, after all, such an esteed gentleman outside, what woman wouldn’t want to gain his favor?
"No need, I have my own sense of proportion." Ann Vaughn shook her head slightly, looking at her swollen knee, she was rather annoyed.
She distinctly rembered it was a red light at that ti, that old lady ran the red light, and then actually pushed her.
Truly unreasonable!
The nurse was left speechless, this young woman really was quite reckless.
At this mont, the door to the ward was pushed open from the outside, a tall and straight figure walked in, stopped by the bedside, and asked the nurse as he looked at the abrasions on her body, "dicine applied?"
"N-No, not yet, almost finished." The disdain on the nurse’s face imdiately vanished, her cheeks reddened, and her movents beca awkward as if tied in knots.
Ann Vaughn let out a hiss of pain as the nurse pressed a cotton swab into a tender spot, causing Cyrus Hawthorne to furrow his brows, his voice cold, "Put down the dicine and leave."
The nurse’s face changed, she no longer dared to daydream about anything, bit her lip, put down the dicine, and walked out sluggishly.
"I have hands and feet, I don’t need you to apply dicine for , and having you stand in front of makes my wounds hurt, wouldn’t you kindly disappear at once?"
Before she walked out, the nurse heard Ann Vaughn say in a cold voice, and she turned her head back with a gleeful smile.
Is this woman crazy? Playing hard to get isn’t done like this!
Yet she saw Cyrus Hawthorne sit down on the edge of the bed, holding Ann Vaughn’s delicate, white leg and applying dicine, "Then let it hurt. You are so capable now, why didn’t you dodge when the car ca?"
Clearly a scolding tone, but there was an unexplainable trace of heartache.
The nurse was unexpectedly stuffed with a mouthful of dog food and could only close the door and leave.
Ann Vaughn crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the pillow, couldn’t help but snicker as she watched Cyrus Hawthorne apply dicine with downcast eyes, "Cyrus, do you know what you look like now?"
"Why not call Mr. Hawthorne?" Cyrus Hawthorne said indifferently.
Ann Vaughn’s mouth twitched and continued, "Don’t tell you’re regretting it, if not, then stay away from , I’m not quite in the mood to sleep with you right now."
She didn’t say it very explicitly, but both of them knew what it ant.
Cyrus Hawthorne’s recent behavior didn’t leave Ann Vaughn any room not to overthink.
"This ti do you want my heart or my kidney? Liver? Uterus?" Ann Vaughn counted on her fingers with a cold smile, her bright eyes fearlessly eting his.
Her life really was alluring, worthy of him pondering again and again!
"Take back all your assumptions," Cyrus Hawthorne’s expression darkened, his voice low and coarse, "I won’t hurt you anymore."
Let alone tolerate anyone else hurting her.
Not hurt her anymore?
Had he hurt her any less?
Ann Vaughn’s lips pulled into a sardonic smile, then she leaned forward to grab her purse from the table, took out her phone, and texted Susie Somrs to tell her she couldn’t make it for dinner and asked her to co pick her up.
But if Susie Somrs saw Cyrus Hawthorne here, who knows how she’d overthink about them.
"My fiancé will co to pick up shortly, no need to trouble Mr. Hawthorne, I’ll transfer the dical expenses to your account now," Ann Vaughn said, as she moved to transfer money to Cyrus Hawthorne.
But suddenly her phone was snatched away, Ann Vaughn frowned and looked up at the cold-faced man, complaining, "What are you doing? Give back my phone!"
"Seems you’ve set your heart on committing bigamy?" Cyrus Hawthorne’s deep voice sounded from above Ann Vaughn’s head, and imdiately his strong arms reached behind her shoulders and under her legs, lifting her up and walking out.
The phrase bigamy made Ann Vaughn’s heart tremble slightly, her teeth clenching lightly.
If she had known there would be a day like this, she would have watched him finalize the divorce proceedings or die trying!
Ann Vaughn’s fingertips slowly revealed a needle’s point, ready to stab it into the acupuncture point on Cyrus Hawthorne’s chest—
"If you’re not afraid of hurting yourself, feel free to act recklessly." Cyrus Hawthorne seed to see through her thoughts, letting out a low chuckle.
Ann Vaughn’s fingertips paused, looked at her distance from the ground, frowned unwillingly, and retracted the golden needle.
Now she understood why Susie Somrs always said Silas Master Moore was a dog of a man, no doubt, they were all from the sa nest.
Cyrus Hawthorne lowered his gaze, looking at the little thing in his arms who suddenly quieted down, a barely detectable trace of a smile passing through his eyes.
After approximately half an hour’s drive.
Cyrus Hawthorne carried Ann Vaughn out of the car and walked towards the villa.
"Sir, you’re back." The old butler from the Hawthorne Family, who was sent over by Old Master Hawthorne, saw Cyrus Hawthorne co in and hurried over, only to see him holding a...
Woman?!!
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