Cyrus Hawthorne walked to the single sofa with a cold expression and sat down, habitually crossing his long legs. His deep blue suit accentuated his distinguished and ethereal appearance, making people dare not look directly at him.
"Read through this docunt, and if you have no objections, I’ll arrange for soone to start the filming this afternoon." His voice was calm and distant as he pushed a docunt toward Ann Vaughn.
Ann Vaughn sat back on the sofa, picked up the docunt, and started reading with her lips pressed together.
It contained so guidelines and procedures related to filming posters and music videos.
She silently finished reading the docunt, put it back into the file bag, and nodded toward Cyrus Hawthorne, "I understand, thank you, President Hawthorne."
Her attitude was distant and indifferent, as if she had suddenly beco a different person, prompting Cyrus Hawthorne to barely perceptibly furrow his brows.
Ann Vaughn said nothing more, lowered her gaze, picked up her bag, and stood up to leave.
"Wait." Cyrus Hawthorne suddenly spoke to stop her.
Her steps halted, and she looked toward Cyrus Hawthorne’s position with half-lowered eyes, though she wasn’t looking at him.
She feared that if she looked, she wouldn’t be able to control the mories of those photos.
Cyrus Hawthorne raised his wrist to press against his subtly aching brow, then took an exquisite, long velvet box from his suit pocket and placed it on the table.
"This is your belated birthday gift."
Clearly, it was a gift, but expressed in his cold voice, it carried an inexplicable air of compulsion, unallowing of refusal.
Ann Vaughn’s eyes flickered slightly as she looked at the box opened on the table, inside which lay a diamond necklace.
The design was simple and refreshing, with a pendant featuring a blue diamond dolphin. Each diamond reflected a beautiful light, and it was clearly expensive.
Ann Vaughn’s gaze only lingered for two seconds before she withdrew it, her soft voice inexplicably choked with emotion, "There’s no need. President Hawthorne has already given a birthday gift."
Cyrus Hawthorne had never given her any gifts before. After the wedding, even the rings used as wedding rings were removed.
He forcibly pulled it off her finger and threw it into the trash can outside.
He said she didn’t deserve to wear that ring.
At first, she didn’t care, so she wasn’t sad.
She didn’t believe Cyrus Hawthorne would give her a gift without reason, especially such an expensive necklace under the guise of a birthday gift.
Unless... he was offering compensation.
Ann Vaughn tugged at her red lips, yet couldn’t muster a nonchalant smile.
Her resistant expression was strikingly obvious, each detail received by Cyrus Hawthorne, whose expression turned even colder.
Indeed, it had been wrong of him to leave her alone that night, but if she wanted to use this as a chance to throw a tantrum, he wasn’t interested in partaking.
"Once a gift is given, there’s no taking it back. If you don’t want it, then throw it away."
With those words, Cyrus Hawthorne casually picked up the blue diamond necklace worth millions and, with a twist of his wrist, threw it into the trash bin nearby.
He then rose, casting a cold glance at Ann Vaughn before striding out of the eting room with long steps.
The mont the door to the eting room closed, Ann Vaughn, who had been maintaining a calm deanor, collapsed softly onto the sofa, her eyes red and her lips nearly bitten through.
That feeling of powerlessness seed imprinted on her heart, impossible to shake off.
The questions she couldn’t voice lodged stubbornly in her throat, refusing to be spoken.
A re substitute in a marriage of convenience, what right did she have to demand he take responsibility for this false union?
Even if she were to ask, he would probably respond just like that.
Ann Vaughn only felt a chill, as if a cold wind blew incessantly into her heart, her face pale as snow.
After a long while, she bent down to pick up the necklace, put it back into the velvet box, and then left the eting room.
The person in charge had actually arrived early, but had been waiting outside the eting room all along.
Ann Vaughn suddenly understood why the eting had to be on the top floor; it was arranged by Cyrus Hawthorne.
Only after leaving the top floor could she suppress those emotions and focus seriously on her work.
The location for the poster shoot was on the nineteenth floor of the building. The makeup team and outfits were all provided by Hawthorne Corp., and Ann Vaughn only needed to follow the photographer’s instructions.
This part was relatively easy and straightforward. The difficult part was the filming of the charity music video and the subsequent promotion of the charity dicine, all of which required her presence.
The schedule for the traditional dicine program and filming for the charity endorsent happened to be staggered, allowing Ann Vaughn more ti to get to know Hawthorne Corp.’s pharmaceutical research.
Initially, she only knew that this charity was intended to benefit children in impoverished areas and border soldiers.
But she never imagined the supply chain behind it would be so enormous.
The figures involved were beyond imagination.
She had to be worthy of the effort behind this charity.
Ann Vaughn spread a faint smile, and a faint light flickered in her bright eyes.
-
Due to the explosion of the traditional dicine program, Ann Vaughn’s fa increased, and the Vaughn Clinic also beca known to more people, with so even traveling from neighboring cities for consultations.
But there were too many patients lining up outside the small clinic each day. No more than ten would be seen, and many people made the trip only to potentially not be seen at all.
Strangely, no one was stirred into causing trouble or arguing, instead thinking this was the proper deanor expected of a renowned doctor, as it should be.
"Your dicine." Ann Vaughn prepared the prescription and handed it to an elderly man with a hunched back and a face too lowered to be seen clearly.
"Thank you, Doctor Vaughn." The old man’s voice was hoarse, and he handed Ann Vaughn a stack of money, "Count to see if it’s correct."
Ann Vaughn initially wanted to put it directly into the cash register but, hearing the old man, thought he was worried about an error in the amount, so she counted each bill then confird to the old man it was correct.
Suddenly, a strange scent wafted past her nose.
Ann Vaughn frowned slightly, wanting to identify the scent, when suddenly the sound of a cup breaking interrupted her thoughts.
Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted, and as she looked up, she saw several children playing around the fragnts of a cup. She imdiately took a broom and swept the pieces off the floor.
The small clinic hung up the "Closed" sign.
After closing, Ann Vaughn was used to staying behind to review the accounting ledger and check the quantity of dicinal herbs before leaving.
Unknowingly, her gaze fell on the calendar, and she lightly pressed her red lips.
Today was already Thursday. Yesterday was the agreed date, and Cyrus Hawthorne hadn’t shown up.
Ann Vaughn couldn’t help but frown. Treating old ailnts was not like other diseases, requiring tily and consistent dosage, or else previous efforts would be wasted, and the old ailnt could relapse.
But even if she emphasized this to him, he probably wouldn’t take it seriously.
Thinking about it, Ann Vaughn felt a heaviness in her chest, the previously comfortable air seemingly rising in temperature, causing her body to gradually feel feverishly hot.
A sudden dizziness struck her brain, and the accounting book in Ann Vaughn’s hand fell to the ground.
Her body suddenly felt as though it had been drained of strength, leaning weakly against the table.
What was going on?
Ann Vaughn shook her head dizzily, trying to clear her mind, but the gradually overwhelming heat welling up from within left her panicking.
She suddenly thought of the strange scent from the money the old man handed over.
At that ti, her attention was drawn to the ground, the shards, and the children, and she hadn’t given it much thought afterward.
Who would have thought that stack of money would be tainted with a potent aphrodisiac!
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