Chapter 445: Chapter 445: Who Are You Jealous Of?
Miyi Yates slowly retracted her gaze, the smile on her lips didn’t change in the slightest, as she lowered her head again to look at the document in her hand.
Ann Vaughn’s wound was an abrasion from her fall, filled with tiny grains of sand that needed to be picked out before disinfecting and treating.
Even though Cyrus Hawthorne’s movements were as gentle as possible, Ann still felt a sharp sting, biting her lips so hard that they turned pale.
Although she didn’t show it, she couldn’t help but shiver when she felt the pain. Noticing this, Cyrus’s brows furrowed even tighter, his expression turning colder and more intimidating.
Fifteen minutes later, the car stopped at the villa.
The guards immediately stepped forward to open the car door, shielding the top with their hand.
But when the car door swung open, and the guards standing a few steps away saw inside the car, they witnessed their decisive Family Head meticulously arranging the skirt of the woman sitting in his lap. Each of their gazes suddenly looked as if they’d seen a ghost.
It wasn’t that they hadn’t seen women going to great lengths to get close to the Family Head, nor had they not seen women of high status and cold demeanor become tender in front of him.
But for the Family Head to be so tender to a woman and allow her to sit in his lap—this chance was virtually nonexistent.
...So, how did they end up seeing this with their own eyes??
In a moment, Cyrus cradled Ann Vaughn in his arms and got out of the car, coldly instructing the servants waiting nearby, "Call the doctor over." He then strode upstairs swiftly.
"Yes, Mr. Hawthorne," the servant replied, immediately going to fetch the doctor.
As soon as his distinguished figure departed, all the guards had the feeling that a nuclear bomb had exploded in their minds, leaving them astonished and unable to retract their gazes for a long time.
Heavens!
These past few years, the Family Head has lived with restraint, and despite numerous efforts from women trying to melt this iceberg, they believed that the future mistress would surely be Miss Miya.
But now...
Soon after, Miyi Yates also got out of the car, looking completely unperturbed. She greeted the guards cordially and entered the villa.
Upstairs in the room.
The doctor arrived quickly, examined Ann Vaughn’s wound, and prescribed some internal and external medications before leaving with his medical kit.
Ann Vaughn only felt her sprained ankle throb severely, a pain she hadn’t realized was so intense before, but now seemed to backlash as the quiet settled in, making it unbearable.
Her skin was already fair, but now her face was as pale as a sheet, with redness at the corners of her eyes. With her long hair cascading around her, she appeared even more delicate and fragile, like a porcelain doll that could easily shatter.
She didn’t call out in pain, just endured it silently, her lips turning white from being bitten.
Cyrus Hawthorne’s narrow eyelids lifted slightly, and the sight of her appearance felt like a heavy blow to his chest, rendering him uncomfortable.
He placed the ointment aside casually, got up to sit on the bedside, and as she looked over in confusion, he pulled her into his embrace, asking softly, "What are you thinking?"
It was indeed painful at first, but the ointment had pain-relieving properties, and after a while, Ann Vaughn found it not as unbearable.
She was only distracted because she was thinking about something else.
Suddenly being hugged into his arms, Ann Vaughn froze for two seconds but ultimately didn’t have the heart to push away the warm and broad embrace. In a muffled voice, she said, "I was thinking about what excuse to use to dump you as a boyfriend."
Cyrus Hawthorne’s slightly tender expression instantly darkened, and his strong arms gradually tightened their hold on her, as if to press her firmly against his body, his voice turning cold, "I won’t allow it."
"Why don’t you allow it!" Ann’s anger flared at his peremptory tone, "Do you think it’s okay for you to get bored with the old and crave the new? I can also keep a little beauty by my side!"
Just like he does!
Her words were somewhat incoherent, and an uninformed listener might not discern what she was angry about, but with a little thought, Cyrus understood her meaning, feeling a slight surprise.
"When did I get bored with the old, crave the new, and keep a little beauty by my side?" he said, the corners of his thin lips curving into a smile, and he planted a light peck on her puffed-up cheek, "Who are you jealous of?"
Although he didn’t know who she was jealous of, seeing how upset she was, it was clear she was quite jealous.
Who’s jealous?!
Ann Vaughn took a deep breath, and after a journey of mental conflict without figuring it out, she decided to confront him directly about Miyi Yates, "You’re asking me? Why don’t you ask yourself, when you were unconscious that..."
Knock knock.
Suddenly, a knock on the door interrupted.
"Family Head, the traitor has been apprehended, please proceed with the next instruction."
Ann Vaughn, interrupted: "..."
Cyrus’s half-narrowed eyes turned cold, but when he looked at Ann Vaughn again, there wasn’t the slightest detectable change in his demeanor, "I have some matters to handle. Be good and rest here, I’ll come back soon."
"Go away!" Ann, whose confrontation was cut off, instantly fumed like a pufferfish, wriggled out of his embrace, turned around, pulled up the quilt, adopting a sulky "don’t come near me" posture.
"Heh." Cyrus let out a couple of soft laughs, raised his hand to gently rub her nape twice before getting up and leaving.
Ann Vaughn turned her head to glance at that tall and robust figure, then pulled the thin quilt over her head, letting out a long sigh.
The courage she had finally mustered to question him dissipated instantly with the interruption, making it difficult to regain.
After an unknown length of time, there was another knock at the door outside.
Ann Vaughn, who was about to drift into sleep, opened her eyes slightly, still groggy and not fully awake, and yawned softly, "Come in."
The door opened, revealing Miyi Yates in a light brown vintage long dress entering, carrying several exquisite paper bags.
Ann Vaughn frowned slightly and, realizing it was unseemly to remain lying down, slowly sat up without aggravating her sprained ankle and asked, "What do you want?"
Miyi Yates gave her a friendly smile, "Miss Vaughn, the last time was too rushed, and I didn’t have a chance to properly host you. I didn’t expect us to meet again so soon."
"Your clothes are all torn, and wearing them must be uncomfortable. I came to bring you some fresh clothes, all in your size."
Her words were considerate and polite, without the slightest hint of negligence.
But Ann Vaughn couldn’t shake the feeling... that there was something odd about her tone.
Regardless, one shouldn’t refuse someone with a smile, so Ann Vaughn didn’t treat her coldly, "Thank you, just leave them on the side."
"Alright." Miyi Yates placed the paper bags where Ann could easily reach them, then glanced at her injured leg, expressing concern, "You’ve sprained it quite severely. It’s best not to move around too much for the time being. Just rest here at the villa."