"Don’t like it?"
"It’s not that... but have you ever considered trying treatnt to recover your past mories?" Ann Vaughn’s curled eyelashes fluttered gently, concealing the unease about to spill from her eyes.
She often forgot that Cyrus Hawthorne had lost his mory, perhaps because he acted so aloof in front of her, seemingly unaffected, not at all like soone with amnesia.
Or maybe, she deliberately avoided confronting the issue, leading to such a misconception.
It seed as though the emotions Ann Vaughn was struggling with were sensed through the phone; the sound of keyboard tapping slowed down, followed by the faint sound of a chair moving and footsteps.
"Do you want to regain my mory?"
His voice was extrely low and deep, embedding emotions that were hard to decipher.
Ann Vaughn froze, a complex feeling suddenly spreading through her body, her red lips parted, unable to utter a word.
After a long while, she took a heavy breath, pretending to be relaxed, and said, "Of course, I hope so, those are the most important parts of your life; losing them is too unfortunate."
Then, she heard a soft laugh from the other end, "It sure is a bit unfortunate."
Hearing the answer she wanted, Ann Vaughn felt no joy in her heart; instead, it was as if she was soaking in sour water, both bitter and bloated.
So things do not delay arriving just because of her worries and resistance.
With his aloof and domineering nature, when he recalls everything from the past, he will probably be averse to the current him who is so adept at gentleness and compromise.
anwhile, Mark Joyce delivered docunts and coffee into the room, just in ti to see the man standing sideways by the bright floor-to-ceiling window, a smile dancing at the corner of his lips.
No need to guess, it must be a call from Miss Vaughn.
After Cyrus Hawthorne put away his phone, the faint smile at his brow had not yet faded. Seeing Mark Joyce waiting beside him, he instructed, "Have August co over."
"The plane ticket back ho tonight..."
"Cancel it."
Mark Joyce affird, but couldn’t help but feel puzzled; wasn’t the BOSS planning to rush back overnight to celebrate Miss Vaughn’s opening? Why the sudden change of mind?
This puzzle was answered when August arrived at the hotel carrying a dical kit.
"Before hypnosis, ensure the environnt is absolutely quiet, no outsiders disturbing, please co in alone." August reminded after preparing the guest room inside.
Cyrus Hawthorne nodded slightly, closed the laptop on his knees, and as he stood up, he suddenly thought of sothing and asked Mark Joyce, "How’s the situation with Yann?"
"According to your instructions, we have investigated and identified their 81 hidden posts within the Imperial Capital, focusing on the more important ones." Mark Joyce reported truthfully, recalling the laughter conveyed from his subordinates earlier, he added, "However, Sutton Jennings still went to Vaughn Clinic today, to celebrate for Miss Vaughn."
Cyrus Hawthorne’s chiseled face imdiately beca sowhat sharp, his tone faintly mocking, "He is quite idle."
Then he shifted his tone, "Reveal so information to the Chief Director, have our people withdraw, understand?"
"Understood, rest assured." Mark Joyce was stunned for a couple of seconds, then instantly understood, cold sweat bursting out on his back.
The BOSS’s move of killing two birds with one stone... really clever.
No need to exert any effort to repay the favor owed to the Chief Director for suppressing the rumors of "Ann Vaughn being a harmful quack." After all, this Director had put in a lot of effort.
Revealing information about Yann to this Director was akin to borrowing the Director’s hand to create trouble for Yann, making them overwheld.
In this way, Sutton Jennings won’t have ti to tangle with Miss Vaughn.
... Truly brilliant.
The guest room was dimly lit, with soft, slow music filling every corner, rising and falling with rhythm.
Before long, all the light in the room gathered on the reclining chair in the center, softly and subtly, like shrouded in a layer of light gauze.
August, dressed in a vintage suit, gently swayed the pocket watch in his hand, and when the man on the recliner closed his narrow eyes, he put away the watch and sighed apologetically.
"Ho, this ti it’s my fault."
He then put the pocket watch away and took out another item...
...
Yann Headquarters.
"You all go back; thank you for your hard work today." Sutton Jennings turned to his subordinates and instructed as he approached the building where he rested.
"Lord Shane, your injuries are still not treated, we..." A group of brothers who had just battled through a pile of blood were being overly cautious, as worriso as a bunch of grandmas.
"I will handle it in a mont; you all go rest." Sutton Jennings said nothing more, nodded to them, then turned and entered the building.
The brothers exchanged looks, their faces showing concern.
"Lord Shane always says he’ll take care of it, but unless it’s life-threatening, he doesn’t pay any attention to it."
"This is all because there hasn’t been a single person all these years to care for and sympathize with Lord Shane. If there were, I’d kneel down and thank her for coming to save the world!"
"Who says there isn’t?"
As soon as this statent was made, the gossiping little brothers imdiately surrounded the speaker, bombarding him with questions, "Do you know sothing?"
"Are you saying there really is?"
The little brother nodded with an air of importance, "Before today’s mission, Lord Shane went to the clinic opened by that woman and prepared flowers and hot air balloons as a surprise, tsk... have any of you ever seen Lord Shane put so much effort into pleasing soone?"
Everyone shook their heads repeatedly; that was simply impossible in the past.
If it weren’t for this little brother being the best at gathering intel among them, they would have doubted whether this news was true.
Does their lord even know what romance ans? If he did, he wouldn’t have scared off so many girls confessing to him.
And they should think about how he is referred to outside—’The Emotional Reaper’!
"Is this for real?" one person rubbed his hands excitedly, "Is Yann finally going to have a mistress?"
"Don’t get ahead of yourself; I’ve heard that woman is entangled with Cyrus Hawthorne, not caring about Lord Shane at all!"
Hearing this, everyone burst out in a flurry of exclamations!
The H surna and their Yann have always been at odds, never seeing eye to eye, always looking to draw blood given the chance.
But due to the unbalanced influence each wielded, they usually coexisted peacefully, not yet at the point of life and death conflict.
But for that Cyrus to dare steal Lord Shane’s woman, that’s intolerable for the little brothers!
"We should figure sothing out; couldn’t let our lord’s rare crush get snatched away by that Cyrus; what is this?"
"Whatever you think, if necessary, we have to win that woman over, can’t let Cyrus succeed!"
"Don’t rush, I’ve already thought of a plan," the little brother who spilled the beans displayed a smug expression, "and it will definitely work!"
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