Chapter 471: Chapter 471: So, You Have Your Day Too
With a thud, a burst of blood bloomed across her forehead, the sharp pain mixing with a burning sensation in her throat, leaving Ann Vaughn unable to utter a sound of agony!
"Ann Vaughn, you finally have your day, don’t you?" A voice seeped with dark satisfaction and sarcasm sounded above Ann’s head.
Ann gasped from the pain, her teeth biting hard into her lip, struggling to suppress the dizziness welling from her brain as she looked up at the woman.
"It’s you!"
"Yes, it’s me." Cynthia Sheridan gripped Ann Vaughn’s long hair, her gaze like a venomous snake glued to Ann’s face as she laughed coldly, "Who would have thought you’d end up in my hands? Let me think, how should I kill you?"
In the past, although Cynthia Sheridan was not stunningly beautiful, she was a delicate beauty. After cosmetic surgery to resemble Ann Vaughn, she wasn’t ugly at all.
But now, due to excessive surgery and living a hellish life in prison worse than death, her face had long been destroyed beyond recognition, looking horrifying and void of any attractiveness.
Ann Vaughn felt a chill run down her spine under those eyes fixed on her. "How did you bring me here? Are you in cahoots with Laura Quinn?"
"Shut up!" Cynthia Sheridan sneered, slapping Ann across the face in frustration. Seeing blood oozing from the corner of Ann’s mouth, she chuckled mockingly, "I’ve only laid two paths before you."
"One, return the ancient book’s secret recipe and the Vaughn Clinic to me. Two, die!"
The sting on her cheek was burning hot, her mouth filled with the taste of blood. Yet upon hearing Cynthia Sheridan’s arrogant words, Ann laughed.
"Return them to you? Cynthia Sheridan, did you forget what your last name is now?" Ann Vaughn’s eyes hinted with blood, her gaze coldly scrutinizing the greedy expression on Cynthia’s face, "Holding the title of Sheridan heiress, asking for Vaughn’s possessions, do you have no shame?"
"Those were mine to begin with! You’re an unwanted bastard, do you really think you can snatch my inheritance from grandpa’s hands?" Enraged by Ann’s words, Cynthia’s eyes swelled with hatred as she let go of Ann’s hair!
Ann, weak and unable to react, slammed the back of her head against the floor.
Before she could cry out in pain, Cynthia kicked her viciously in the back, spitting harshly, "You’re almost dead anyway, so I’m not afraid to tell you! I knew since I was a child that you’re not really my sister, just a bastard from outside! Letting the Vaughn heiress call you sister? Have you looked in a mirror to see if you even deserve it!"
"If it weren’t for mom and dad forbidding me to say anything, I would’ve kicked you out long ago! Only an idiot like you believed we were your real family. Pathetic, just look at your face, a curse, who in our family looks like that?!"
"Ann Vaughn, I’m telling you, not only have you lived in my shadow since childhood, you will even as an adult! If you’re smart enough to hand over the ancient book’s recipe, I might spare half your life!"
The malicious voice was devil-like next to her ears, her body cold and numb from pain. Ann couldn’t feel any more pain, barely holding on by sheer will.
So... this is the truth.
No wonder her parents were always particularly unkind, and her sister constantly rejected her, accusing her of stealing their parents, calling her an unwanted bastard, an ugly duckling...
It turns out those words weren’t mere childish naivety, but reality cruelly dissected in front of her.
However, now, she would not be moved by them in the slightest.
Without fear, without trepidation.
Ann Vaughn struggled to stand, her eyes clear, steadily meeting Cynthia’s crazed gaze.
"Your father stole the Dragon Marrow Jade from my cradle to start The Vaughn Group, which then provided you with the life of a pampered heiress with entourages and luxury... Cynthia Sheridan, no, Cynthia Vaughn, do you think I owe the Vaughn Family?"
"The ones who raised me from infancy weren’t you; it was my grandpa. Even if I owed anything, it’s to him, not you. You’re not worthy of my debt."
"So why do you think I’d live in your shadow forever? Are you worthy?"
No sooner had she finished than Cynthia’s face turned terrifying, lifting a foot to kick Ann!
"If you dare lay a finger on me, you’ll never get what you want." The words were like a curse, forcefully halting Cynthia’s actions, as she glared menacingly at Ann.
"You want the book’s secret recipe?" Ann wiped the blood off her lips, her exquisite face more radiant with the crimson, "Only I know where it’s hidden. I’ll take you to it, but you’ll have to release me once it’s in your hands."
Release her?
Cynthia’s eyes flickered with a chilling light, silent as she moved forward, untying the rope on Ann’s feet and yanking her up by the collar, pressing a utility knife against her back.
"You better behave; my knife doesn’t have eyes!"
Ann’s lips twitched, obediently walking forward while rapidly contemplating an escape plan, yet finding none.
After exiting the dark room, she was surprised to find Cynthia had imprisoned her in her own apartment, not in some remote warehouse.
She recalled Kenny mentioning the necklace around her neck contained a GPS tracker, and she could only hope they’d find her soon...
"Hurry up! Stop dawdling!" Cynthia pushed Ann to the staircase, visibly impatient.
If it weren’t for the secret recipe, she would have slashed this bitch’s face long ago and sent her to meet the end! She silently cursed in her heart as she moved to push Ann’s shoulder to quicken her pace.
But suddenly a force shoved from behind, making Cynthia involuntarily lurch forward. Fearing missing a step down the stairs, she instinctively pushed Ann in front of her!
Ann, about to descend the stairs, noticed the tension behind her too late. The force in Cynthia’s push was real, and she had just stepped forward.
She instantly lost her footing, tumbling down the stairs!
Pain...
So much pain...
In a daze, Ann felt intense contractions in her abdomen, as if something were ebbing away from that place.
The excruciating pain was like carving bone, causing her brows to knit tightly. Her vacant eyes stared upward, persistently trying to catch sight of something.
Completely unaware of the unstoppable crimson seeping from beneath her, coloring her clothes and the floor around her in a shocking, terrifying red.