Chapter 444: Chapter 444: My Wife Loves to Make a Scene
"Even if I buy another one, it won’t be the same one!" Ann Vaughn gritted her teeth, momentarily forgetting the stabbing pain from her wounds in her anger, storming towards the car that almost hit her.
Ian Vaughn: "..." What kind of passionate foodie spirit is this?
Inside the black Spyker C8.
"What’s going on?" A deep, cold voice with a metallic quality came from the back seat.
Before Dragon could answer, Miyi Yates, seated in the passenger seat, saw the slender figure walking towards the car. She quickly averted her gaze and handed a tablet to the back seat.
"It seems like a pedestrian was accidentally hit. Family Head, Team 1 has sent new information, please take a look."
"Hmm." The man replied indifferently, looking down at the password translation on the tablet, consequently missing the figure that flashed past the window.
Seeing this, Miyi Yates smiled slightly at Dragon, "You should handle it, don’t let irrelevant people disturb the Family Head."
Dragon ignored her and slowly lowered the window just before the fierce-looking figure outside came over to knock.
Miyi Yates’ smile faded slightly but said nothing.
"Sir, what are you thinking that you can drive onto the sidewalk? Do you think you’re driving a Transformer or something?"
Ann Vaughn walked up to the driver’s side window of the Spyker with blazing eyes, just about to knock when the window suddenly came down and her hand accidentally hit Dragon’s face.
Dragon: "..."
Ann Vaughn: "..."
Their eyes met, and the air was filled with a subtle awkwardness.
Coming to her senses, Ann Vaughn quickly withdrew her hand, looking at Dragon in shock, "Why is it you?"
She had previously witnessed Dragon’s superb driving skills, making it impossible for him to accidentally drive onto the sidewalk and nearly hit someone.
Wait, if Dragon is driving, then the person sitting in the back must be...
Ann Vaughn abruptly looked through the window towards the back seat. Although she only vaguely saw the long legs wrapped in black suit pants, it was enough to make her expression change suddenly.
A nameless and inexplicable frustration surged back into her body like a tide, making her breath chill a few degrees.
Without thinking twice, Ann Vaughn turned to leave, too lazy to even settle scores.
But when one is eager to do something in haste, it’s easy to become flustered, especially with her recently sprained ankle. It’s predicted—
The already sprained ankle sent a sharp pain through her body the moment she unexpectedly stepped onto a raised spot on the road.
How could she be so unlucky?
Ann Vaughn’s face turned pale from the pain, almost collapsing to the ground, but was promptly supported by the rushing Ian Vaughn, "Your right ankle is already swollen; to avoid a fracture, you shouldn’t move carelessly."
She nodded painfully, only to find Ian Vaughn’s arm around her waist, "I’ll carry you back to the hospital, don’t move."
...Wait, what did he just say? Carry??
Indeed, for Ian Vaughn, who has only had close contact with his mom and sister, since childhood, carrying Ann Vaughn back to the hospital seemed to be the best solution.
Ann Vaughn’s mouth twitched, just about to refuse him when she felt her waist tightened suddenly. Before she could react, she was drawn into an embrace filled with a faint, cool scent.
Ian Vaughn looked in surprise at the man who had just emerged from the car, exuding a powerful and cold aura like an emperor, his light-colored eyes narrowing in recognition.
Isn’t that... the Head of the Hawthorne Family?
Unexpectedly meeting him here.
"She’s my wife, no need for you to trouble yourself." The man said coldly, lifting Ann Vaughn with his strong arms, heading towards the car with strides.
"Who is your wife?!" Ann Vaughn realized, struggling to push against his chest trying to push him away, but unable to escape his hold. She shouted to Ian Vaughn, "Big Brother Vaughn, help me! This man is a human trafficker!"
The man’s face turned dark, his thin lips pressed into a line.
Seeing Ann Vaughn’s unwillingness, Ian Vaughn spoke up, "President Hawthorne, Annie already said she’s unwilling; forcing a girl is not the act of a gentleman."
Hearing this, Ann Vaughn vigorously nodded, "Yes! Forcing someone is... um!?"
However, before she could finish agreeing with Ian Vaughn, her words were cut off as Cyrus Hawthorne sealed her mouth, blocking any sound she was about to make.
Cyrus Hawthorne turned his gaze to Ian Vaughn, whose ear tips were slightly red, with a smile on his lips, "My wife loves to create a scene, please excuse her."
With that, he leaned in, placing Ann Vaughn in the back seat, sat down himself, and ordered Dragon, "Drive."
Ian Vaughn: ...
While thinking, Ian Vaughn frowned, reaching behind to touch the dull pain in his back. He had taken quite a fall earlier but didn’t mention it to avoid worrying Ann Vaughn.
...
In the car.
Cyrus Hawthorne’s long legs crossed gracefully and casually, one hand gently patting Ann Vaughn, who had buried her face between her knees, coaxing softly, "Come up, let me see your injury."
Like she would let him see it.
Ann Vaughn had noticed Miyi Yates was in the car as soon as she got in, so she naturally wasn’t in a great mood. It was already her limit not to lash out then.
Calling out another woman’s name in his sleep, yet constantly enticing her who has little self-control...
This man was simply unfaithful!
"I haven’t even settled the score with you for coming to Eland without permission, and you’re already throwing a fit?" Cyrus Hawthorne raised an eyebrow at Ann Vaughn’s ostrich-like behavior and stopped wasting words; he directly pulled her onto his lap from the seat.
Ann Vaughn pursed her lips, not wanting to speak.
Cyrus Hawthorne’s gaze fell on the several scrapes on her white legs and her frighteningly swollen ankle, his brows knitted tightly, glaring at Dragon driving the car, "Go to the penalty room yourself."
"Yes." Dragon clicked his tongue silently; he initially expected gratitude.
Miyi Yates caught a glimpse of Dragon’s secretly annoyed expression, then looked into the rearview mirror, her almond-shaped eyes widening in shock.
She saw... the usually indifferent and aloof Family Head, like a deity, carefully and meticulously cleaning and tending to the wounds of the woman’s white legs in his palm.
It was a gentleness she had never witnessed in him before.
But the woman honored to receive such treatment wasn’t even willing to give him a glance, turning her pretty face away with faint annoyance written on it...