Chapter 245: Chapter 245: I’m Pregnant With Your Child
"Cyrus Hawthorne..." Ann Vaughn sobbed twice, "He’s keeping a woman outside, and they even have a child!"
At the same time, Cyrus Hawthorne, who came carrying Ann Vaughn’s handbag: "..."
Uncle Dexter’s face changed immediately, his gaze on Cyrus Hawthorne was somewhat unfriendly, but he still comforted Ann Vaughn, "Miss Vaughn, please come inside, Uncle Dexter will definitely seek justice for you!"
Ann Vaughn nodded with grievance, then jogged into the villa.
Only when she was inside did she realize, did she just accidentally say something she shouldn’t have said?
Outside the door, Uncle Dexter looked at Cyrus Hawthorne with disdain and confusion, opening his mouth, "Young Master, you really crossed the line, how could you..."
"Annie is drunk, she’s been talking nonsense all the way." Cyrus Hawthorne’s temples throbbed faintly, he stepped on the stone steps and said, "She thinks she’s a mushroom, do you think what she says now is believable?"
"You really haven’t been fooling around outside?" Uncle Dexter was skeptical.
"Aside from her, I haven’t touched another woman."
So, where did the child come from?
After explaining this troublesome misunderstanding, Cyrus Hawthorne walked into the villa, only to see Ann Vaughn teetering at the railing on the second floor, his heart suddenly clenched.
He strode towards the spiral staircase beside him, taking three steps at a time up to the second floor, then his face darkened as he pulled the drunken Ann Vaughn back from the railing.
"Try drinking again next time!"
Dropping this line with quite a fierce tone, Cyrus Hawthorne pulled Ann Vaughn into the master bedroom, settling her on the bed.
Who would have thought that as soon as she lay down, Ann Vaughn would lift her skirt, patting her slightly bulging belly from being too full, looking shameless, "Cyrus Hawthorne, I’m pregnant with your child!"
... This little drunk.
Cyrus Hawthorne resisted the urge to spank her, tidied her boldly lifted skirt, took off her little white shoes, then covered her with a soft quilt.
While softly coaxing, "Sleep quickly."
"Really pregnant." Ann Vaughn patted her belly, poutingly bitter, why isn’t she pregnant yet, she drank so much medicine, it was so bitter.
"Alright, alright, you are pregnant." Cyrus Hawthorne sat at the bedhead, holding her half in his arms, his voice deep and magnetic, "If you’re pregnant, let’s keep it. The love that couldn’t be given to that child, I’ll give it all to him."
As he said this, a flash of pain crossed Cyrus Hawthorne’s eyes.
Suddenly, Ann Vaughn seemed sparked by some word and fiercely knocked the back of her head against Cyrus Hawthorne, angrily saying, "The child is mine alone, you can’t think of taking him!"
Cyrus Hawthorne’s jaw hurt slightly, almost angered by this unreasonable little thing, he looked at her with cool eyes.
"Little rascal, how will you give birth without me?"
Ann Vaughn paused for a few seconds, unable to argue with him, her small mouth pouted, looking like she was about to cry again.
Cyrus Hawthorne’s head instantly ached, a trace of helplessness flashed on his handsome face, "Alright, it’s yours alone, no more crying, okay?"
Hearing these words, Ann Vaughn finally swallowed her tears, obediently lying in his arms, closing her eyes to sleep.
Seeing her finally willing to settle down, Cyrus Hawthorne secretly breathed a sigh of relief, his chin resting against her hair tip, slowly closing his eyes.
If she drinks a few more times, he probably wouldn’t have to wait until next month, he could directly see a psychologist now.
But considering Ann Vaughn’s temperament, locking her close would only arouse her resentment.
Cyrus Hawthorne suddenly opened his eyes, not knowing what he thought of, gently placed Ann Vaughn on the pillow, then got up from bed and left the room.
When he returned to the master bedroom, he had a set of documents, a pen, and an ink pad in his hand.
Unknown when Ann Vaughn woke up, she hugged the quilt, sitting on the bed with flushed cheeks, dazedly looking at Cyrus Hawthorne.
"Mushroom, you can’t run around, or you’ll be eaten by humans."
Initially thinking Ann Vaughn was slightly clearer, Cyrus Hawthorne sighed lightly, he walked over and sat beside her, "I’ll hold you to sleep, no running, alright?"
"As long as it’s not Cyrus Hawthorne, it’s fine." Ann Vaughn seriously nodded, then lay down.
"Why can’t it be Cyrus Hawthorne?" Cyrus Hawthorne placed the documents aside, pulled her along with the quilt into his arms, asked in a deep voice.
"I don’t like him."
A soft complaint, like a blade stabbing hard into Cyrus Hawthorne’s heart, his deep, pool-like eyes froze.
He chuckled bitterly, self-inflicted, "Then who do you like? Sutton Jennings?"
"Anyway... not him." Ann Vaughn tilted her head, mumbling.
After a long silence, Cyrus Hawthorne finally lifted his eyes to look at the illustration on the wall, the warm light falling into his eyes, seemingly forming an uncancellable shadow.
His arms gradually tightened, encircling the little figure in his arms, the unreality reaching an extreme.
If he hadn’t been wrong from the start, between them, perhaps there would be another scenario.
However, there’s no turning back, only forward.
He would rather resort to any means, than let go to fulfill.
"Briar, wait for me..." the rather playful phone ringtone suddenly rang.
Hearing the name "Briar," Cyrus Hawthorne’s eyebrow jumped faintly, then he took Ann Vaughn’s phone out of her handbag, lowered his eyes to look.
The screen displayed the word "baby."
The light in Cyrus Hawthorne’s eyes sank instantly, then he swiped his finger, placing the phone to his ear, "Hello?"
This "Hello" forcibly swallowed the "Mommy" Kenny was about to shout.
He remembered Mommy went to attend a class reunion, how was she with The Archfiend?
Though unclear, Kenny didn’t make any sound, directly hanging up the phone.
Then Little Dumpling opened the computer instantly, his chubby little hands started operating.
After hanging up, Cyrus Hawthorne lowered his eyes and chuckled, somewhat coolly.
After noting down the number, he casually placed the phone on the table, glanced sideways at the document beside him.
Then he slowly leaned down, near Ann Vaughn’s ear, lowly and deeply coaxed, "Annie, shouldn’t mushrooms be obedient so they won’t be eaten?"
"Hmm? Mushrooms are obedient..." Ann Vaughn was nearly asleep, she subconsciously responded hearing his words.
Until long after, Mushroom Cloud always regretted, why did she have to respond with that.
Of course, that’s a later tale.
...
The next day, the sunlight outside was bright but not glaring.
The lump on the bed moved a bit, then a slender leg stretched out, kicking the quilt aside.
The lump turned over, directly rolling into the arms of the person beside, being firmly held.
Right then, the door was knocked.
Soon, the door was pushed open, Uncle Dexter came in holding a cordless phone, "Young Master, the old master’s call..."