Chapter 185: Chapter 185: I’m Also Fortunate That You Are in My Dreams
For a long time afterward, she didn’t dare to recall everything that had happened back then.
Whenever she thought of it, a fine pain would surge from the edge of her heart, uncontrollable.
Ann Vaughn glanced at him, calming her emotions, then picked up the remote control, turned off all the lights in the room, and then—
She moved in close.
"It’s not too much to charge a little interest for what you owe me."
As these words fell, the faint fragrance floating in the dim room seemed to become the finest instrument, weaving a sequence of ambiguous and vibrant scenes.
The man, whose consciousness was already muddled but not incapacitated, found redemption in that touch of coolness.
A soul-shaking familiarity surged up suddenly, as if through ages passed, akin to a nightly recurring nightmare, now genuinely manifest beneath him.
Cyrus Hawthorne’s half-closed narrow eyes suddenly glowed red, his grip tightening dramatically, transforming passivity into aggression, clutching that petite figure closely, as if to bind her into his very body, into his blood and bones.
Ann, Ann, Ann...
Even if it’s a dream, I’m fortunate that it’s you in the dream.
The sweltering air nearly enveloped this small space; the bed’s shadow swayed lightly, along with the languid rhythm, even the moon outside shyly hid behind the clouds.
The unfolding of events went completely beyond Ann Vaughn’s expectations.
She merely planned to slip away after one affair, so as not to linger too long and be discovered.
With the incense’s aroma, she wasn’t worried that Cyrus would suddenly wake and find her.
But Ann Vaughn had not overestimated the incense, rather underestimated Cyrus’s willpower and self-control.
If it weren’t for Cyrus still being unconscious and merely operating on instinct, Ann Vaughn would have thought the incense had expired.
Clearly, anyone who has smelled this scent behaves well, follows orders, and definitely, definitely doesn’t have the capacity to counterattack!
When Ann Vaughn realized things were out of control and wanted to escape, it was already too late.
A whitish tint spread over the horizon, filtering into the room through the curtain gaps.
Ann Vaughn fought off the drowsiness being signaled by her brain to her body, fought off the soreness in her body, and broke away from the man’s iron embrace, nearly aggravating the wounds left from the night before.
She lashed out at the man’s cheek in pain, though her body was weak, and her effort was more out of frustration than force.
Ann Vaughn recovered for a moment before dragging herself off the bed to tidy up the chaotic scene in front of her.
If discovered this time, it would be tough to deal with this highly vigilant man again comfortably next time.
As Ann Vaughn finished cleaning up and left the hotel, she received a call from Sherry, and walked towards the inconspicuous white car by the roadside.
Ann Vaughn opened the car door, got in, removed the scarf and towel from her face, and leaned wearily against the seat, unwilling to move a finger.
"Annie, why don’t we consider another solution?" Sherry quickly spread a blanket over Ann Vaughn, noticing the suggestive marks on her neck, her expression complicated.
She felt an intense heartache.
Annie, running across the world all these years, saving countless people from the grip of death.
Most of the money she earned had been donated in Kenny’s name to charitable organizations without so much as a blink, saying it was to accumulate blessings for Kenny.
Who knew that in the blink of an eye, Kenny would fall ill with such a disease, his condition worsened by the lack of matching bone marrow; his health only maintained by traditional medicine.
And now, she even had to sacrifice herself...
"This is the last resort," Ann Vaughn’s small face was weary, her lazy tone carrying an inexplicable charm, "Besides, sleeping and leaving without responsibility, where else could you find such a bargain."
Sherry nearly choked on her words, as much as Ann Vaughn loved beauty and appreciated handsome men, she never expected...
The most sought-after bachelor in S Country to be used in such a manner...
"You sleep first, I’ll wake you when we get home."
"Alright." Ann Vaughn closed her eyes, needing no effort to feel sleepy, tilting her head and falling asleep immediately.
The car drove for half an hour before reaching the apartment.
"Mommy, what happened?" Kenny opened the door, surprised to see Sherry carrying Ann Vaughn, a look of worry on his face.
"Your mommy is too tired, I didn’t wake her, let her get a good rest," Sherry said as she carried Ann Vaughn into the bedroom and laid her on the bed.
Kenny pulled the covers over Ann Vaughn, pressed his forehead to hers to ensure her temperature was normal, and left the room once reassured.
"Sherry, can I ask you a question?"
"What does little J.B. want to ask me?" Sherry thought he would ask where Ann Vaughn went last night and had a ready-made excuse.
Following Ann Vaughn these years, she had not only been her nanny but also a competent assistant.
Ann Vaughn surely didn’t want Kenny to know about this, so she had to keep it a secret.
Who knew Kenny wasn’t asking that, "Do you know... um, about the man who donated a bit of gene material to create me?"
The Little Dumpling’s sharp words nearly threw Sherry off.
Once she understood whom he meant, she couldn’t help but chuckle, "Kenny, that’s your daddy."
"Kenny doesn’t have such a heartless daddy," Kenny’s big eyes dimmed, brushing his head against Sherry’s hand, "Just tell me, please."
"But I’ve never met your daddy so I don’t know about him," Sherry thought for a moment, "But the outside world describes him as a tyrant."
Arbitrary, omnipotent, possessing prestigious stature.
Two words suffice.
"Then he must be a big villain," Kenny’s soft face puffed up in anger, "No wonder Mommy divorced him!"
Watching the little fellow’s righteous indignation, Sherry chuckled, patting his head affectionately, "You’ve been watching those melodramas your mommy stores, haven’t you? Children shouldn’t meddle in adult affairs, understood?"
Kenny stuck out his tongue and ran off to his room.
Around ten-thirty.
In the top floor room of the hotel.
"Annie—"
With the man’s hoarse, fearful voice trailing off, his arms suddenly contracted in a bid to hold onto that softness, only to grasp at air.
Cyrus Hawthorne then opened his eyes, dark as though covered by storm clouds, void of any light.
He slowly raised his arm, his jade-like fingers flexing as if the tangible sensation from the dream lingered, giving him a sense of transient reality.
It felt like that was no dream.
As though she truly, vividly embraced the pleasure beneath him last night, sobbing softly in his arms, even her resistance was intensely real.
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