Even if Cyrus Hawthorne didn’t want to see her, he should have told her if he changed his mind, rather than letting Cynthia use it to humiliate her.
"If you don’t believe , take a look outside. Cyrus ca specifically to accompany for makeup and styling, and how about you?" Cynthia spoke softly, "Of course, if you shalessly insist on joining us, I can pity you."
As if to verify Cynthia’s words, Cyrus Hawthorne’s deep, cold voice ca in from outside the dressing room.
"Cynthia, are you ready?"
In that instant, Ann Vaughn felt as if sothing within her had collapsed, her heart suddenly tightened, causing a dull yet unbearable ache.
The excuses she had just used were like slaps, each one resounding back at her.
He accompanied Cynthia for styling and makeup, but only sent soone with a card for her to co alone. Clearly, the importance was obvious.
Ann never expected that he would know Cynthia would be here too and they might run into each other, yet didn’t offer a single explanation.
It was almost as if he wanted Cynthia to remind her to recognize her place and not to covet what wasn’t hers.
Like a clown.
Cynthia looked at Ann’s dejected expression, the triumphant smile on her lips growing, "Sister, wish a pleasant evening. I will represent you, receiving everyone’s admiration."
With that, Cynthia left the dressing room and closed the door.
As soon as she exited, Cynthia clung to the arm of Cyrus waiting outside, face full of regret, "Cyrus, what should I do? Sister wasn’t very happy when she heard I was attending the gala too."
"She said unless I didn’t go, she absolutely wouldn’t go with . Did I... did I do sothing wrong to make Sister suddenly dislike ?"
Cynthia’s face was bewildered, eyes red, incredibly fragile.
Hearing this, Cyrus’s brow furrowed slightly, his already aloof face more intimidating.
If Ann Vaughn heard Cynthia’s words, she probably would have laughed in anger.
The Whitlock Family’s gala was no ordinary event, frequented by well-known figures in the circle, and those without family background didn’t even get an invitation.
So according to Cynthia saying, Ann was trying to assert her status, not allowing her sister to attend together.
Cyrus stared intently at the dressing room door for two seconds, then let out a low scoff, "If she doesn’t want to go, she doesn’t have to. Spoiled by Grandpa and doesn’t know her limits."
Saves him from wasting the set of jewelry he ordered overseas on such a vain woman.
As soon as they left, Ann, looking pale, erged from the studio.
It was drizzling outside, the weather a bit chilly. Wearing a gown, Ann wasn’t holding up against the cold, and goosebumps appeared on her arms.
She touched her cold arms, took out her phone, and decided to call Cyrus Hawthorne to get clarity.
What good did he gain by ssing with her like this?
"Hello?"
A low, cold displeased voice ca through, and Ann exhaled into her palm, lightly biting her red lip, "Cyrus Hawthorne, why did you change your mind all of a sudden without telling ?"
There was silence on the other end for two seconds, followed by a slightly mocking chuckle.
"Do I need to explain my decisions to you? Who do you think you are?"
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