After a long ti, Sutton Jennings glanced at Ann Vaughn’s slightly furrowed brow and, in the end, released his grip first, not wanting to make it difficult for her.
Also because he had no stance.
Ann Vaughn secretly breathed a sigh of relief; she didn’t want her personal affairs to implicate Sutton Jennings, who had helped her so much.
Little did she know that her small thoughts were already perceived by Cyrus Hawthorne, whose indifferent gaze visibly turned icy, yet he did not release his hand, wrapping her waist as he turned and left.
"Where are you taking ?" Ann Vaughn reacted, but by then she had already been brought into a private room by him.
Inside the private room, with just a glance, there were roughly seven or eight people, so playing dice, so playing cards, and so drinking.
Seeing that Cyrus Hawthorne had gone out and returned with a woman, one by one, they couldn’t contain their curiosity.
Due to the dim lighting, the people there did not imdiately recognize Ann Vaughn as Cyrus Hawthorne’s lawfully wedded wife.
"What’s going on, man? You went out and brought back such a stunning beauty, no wonder you refused the top girl I picked for you."
"I bet a piece of land that Hawthorne isn’t that type of guy. This beauty might have shown up herself!"
"Alright, I’ll follow along, betting my villa at Silver Beach that this beauty was brought by Hawthorne!"
"I bet..."
In just a short mont, these people started betting on Ann Vaughn, with all sorts of extravagant stakes.
Ann Vaughn found their words sowhat grating to the ear, and couldn’t help but clutch the hem of her clothing tightly.
"Heh." Cyrus Hawthorne’s thin lips curled slightly, looking at this crowd with a gaze that seed amused, "Who gave you the guts to gamble on my people?"
The room fell into a sudden silence at these words, only the sound from the speakers continued.
Ann Vaughn, who was initially reluctant to co in, raised her head in surprise, looking at the man’s deep and handso face under the shifting light, her cheeks quietly flushing.
Those who could appear in the sa setting as Cyrus Hawthorne were naturally very astute, and soon realized that Ann Vaughn was soone they couldn’t even joke about casually.
Cyrus Hawthorne’s attitude was everything.
"Hey, hey, man, I was wrong just now, I didn’t show enough respect to the young lady, let’s just treat this villa as an apology to her. Please do accept it."
"This is a shopping card for the national departnt stores. Buying stuff is what makes girls happy, right?"
"I have this..."
In just half a mont, the people in the room changed their faces dramatically, enthusiastically offering the most valuable things on them to Ann Vaughn.
Ann Vaughn’s clear eyes showed so helplessness, she looked up at Cyrus Hawthorne.
"Take them, consider them a greeting gift." Cyrus Hawthorne’s tone was indifferent, clearly not taking these things to heart.
Ann Vaughn was choked up and quietly accepted those things, planning to return them to Cyrus Hawthorne when she left.
These people changed their attitudes solely because of Cyrus Hawthorne, offering their gifts almost like tributes, so it was only right to return them to him.
However, there was one person in the room who hadn’t spoken from beginning to end, drinking alone to the side.
Cyrus Hawthorne led Ann Vaughn over, kicking aside a bottle on the ground as he sat down, and with a slight curve of his thin lips, said to the person beside him, "Impressive."
"Better than being a block of wood who knows nothing about love." Silas Master Moore put down the wine glass in his hand, with a mischievous smile in his eyes, "Oh, this is interesting."
In the past, it was impossible for Cyrus Hawthorne to bring Ann Vaughn out, even appearing in the sa fra with her was unlikely.
It seed like the sun was sprouting from the ground today.
Ann Vaughn pursed her lips into a polite smile and nodded slightly at Silas Master Moore, sowhat surprised that he was friends with Cyrus Hawthorne.
But recalling his earlier words, her smile deepened.
Cyrus Hawthorne couldn’t possibly be a block of wood who knows nothing about love; it just had to be in front of a particular person.
The room soon grew lively again, as the vibrant lights spun around, flashing unstably, making one feel sleepy after watching for a while.
Ann Vaughn sat obediently to the side, sipping pure juice, occasionally catching fragnts of conversation between Cyrus Hawthorne and Silas Master Moore, not clearly due to the sound system.
"The promises I made when I was a child have long since been dismissed as nothing more than empty words, who else but you would take childhood promises seriously and still fulfill them now?" Silas Master Moore was noticeably indifferent.
"What, you’re proud of having a bunch of won stirring things up at ho?"
Having had so drinks, Cyrus Hawthorne’s voice carried a sandy coolness, deep and magnetic, with an indescribable seductive quality.
This was sothing Silas Master Moore couldn’t refute, as he swirled his glass, "That’s why I say you don’t understand love, since the person you want to marry because of a promise doesn’t equate to love."
In the end, it wasn’t so much about affection but rationality prevailing over emotions, and that person happened to have a life-saving grace upon him.
Just a debt of gratitude.
The night grew late, and the gathering ended earlier than expected.
Cyrus Hawthorne placed the already-sleeping Ann Vaughn in the passenger seat, gazing at her peaceful sleeping face for a mont, then started the car and left the underground garage of Aurelia.
Half an hour later, the car stopped at the base of The Water Terrace.
The light from the street lamps fell speckled through the branches onto the smooth lines of the car’s body, the night breeze breezing through the car windows, cool and pleasant.
It was a while before Ann Vaughn opened her eyes, still drowsy with weariness, her cheeks slightly puffed, looking like a lazy kitten.
It took her a while to co to her senses, realizing she was in the car, and still in Cyrus Hawthorne’s car.
"How long have I... been asleep?" Ann Vaughn blinked, instinctively sitting up straight, looking at Cyrus Hawthorne’s handso face shrouded in smoke.
A cigarette was held between his fingers, his pale lips moving, exhaling clouds of smoke, giving his cold, abstinent face a touch of debonair charm.
Cyrus Hawthorne turned his head to look at Ann Vaughn, his half-squinted eyes sowhat casual, speaking with an understated tone, "Have you thought about it?"
Thought about what?
Ann Vaughn was stunned for a few seconds. eting his mild gaze suddenly reminded her of what happened the day before yesterday.
Her face instantly turned pallid, the drowsiness in her eyes dispelled.
"Even if it is your child..."
"What of it if it is my child?" Cyrus Hawthorne’s voice was indifferent, extinguishing the cigarette between his fingers, his tone cold and detached, "A child suddenly appearing to , besides being a weakness, is nothing else."
"Ann Vaughn, must I break this down for you to understand?"
The prenatal check-up report from the night before had already reached his hands.
The ti of her pregnancy did align with that one night they had, so it was his child.
But, so what.
Soone in his position could not afford any weaknesses, or it could beco a fatal wound exploited by rivals.
Not to ntion, this wasn’t a child born out of love, so there was little anticipation.
Unconsciously, Silas Master Moore’s nonsensical remarks crossed Cyrus Hawthorne’s mind again, causing an itch in his throat. He took out a cigarette but did not light it.
Ann Vaughn tightly clutched the strap of her purse, her pretty face pale as paper. Even though she had already prepared herself for the possibility that he wouldn’t accept this child.
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