Chapter 209: Chapter 209: What Are You Doing Up Here?
"Staying by my side, are you that unwilling?"
As his thin lips parted, the warm breath sprayed onto Ann Vaughn’s neck, bringing about a frightening shudder.
Ann Vaughn wanted to scratch her neck, but her hands were tightly held by him, causing her some frustration.
"Why should I stay by your side?"
She couldn’t understand, given that the erroneous marriage between them four years ago had already been corrected.
Shouldn’t he be the one feeling most liberated? What’s the meaning of this now?
It’s funny, why should she...
"If you’re willing to stay, all the herbs in the garden are yours." Cyrus Hawthorne approached her ear slowly, his cold voice carrying an indescribable allure.
Ann Vaughn swallowed at that moment, recalling that bunch of tenderly nurtured treasures, her gaze wandered slightly.
"Who cares about your herbs, do you think I’m a three-year-old?" She turned her head away with a cold face.
"Dragon Grass, Hundred-year-old Blood Vine, Raven Leaves, Thousand-year-old Snow Ganoderma..."
Before she knew it, Cyrus had listed nearly ten rare herbs, any one of which could cause a frenzy.
Especially the first few, which are treasures already extinct now.
To say she wasn’t tempted, even Ann Vaughn couldn’t fool herself.
But he was trying to keep her with such invaluable herbs, was it just to make her stay?
"Mr. Hawthorne’s memory is quite good." Ann Vaughn said with a fake smile, her teeth grinding for a moment before releasing, "Unfortunately, those aren’t my cup of tea."
Really?
Cyrus remembered the day Ann Vaughn stood outside the herb garden, her sparkling eyes wanting to snatch all those herbs away, and he chuckled silently.
Clearly, she liked them, little liar.
Yet Uncle Dexter’s recent advice resurfaced: "Learn to appeal to their interest, and use unconventional methods if necessary."
Cyrus’s narrow eyes squinted for a moment before he took out the black crystal pendant he carried with him and squinted his eyes to ask Ann Vaughn, "Do you know what this is?"
Isn’t this...
Ann Vaughn recognized the pendant that almost killed her, pressing her red lips together.
"Inside this," Cyrus’s voice was hoarse, carrying threads of barely discernible softness: "contains your ashes."
In an instant, every hair on Ann Vaughn’s body stood up, her eyes widened in shock by his words.
He must be insane?!
Not to mention, the ashes in there aren’t even hers, even if they were!
He carries her "ashes" around in this pendant, is he out of his mind?!
Damn, she’s never seen such a lunatic!
Even knowing what’s inside wasn’t her whatever, Ann Vaughn still felt a chill, her whole body cold.
She reached out to grab the black crystal pendant, but Cyrus put it away instead.
He gazed at the terror displayed on Ann Vaughn’s face, his tone indifferent: "If you insist on leaving, then I can only keep your ashes."
Finally, he curled his lips into a smile, instantly presenting a spectacle as beautiful as snow blooming on trees.
"Thus, you can always be with me."
His expression was gentle and lingering, yet the words spilling from his mouth sent chills down one’s spine.
Ann Vaughn felt like all her pores were frozen, her red lips pressed tightly, heart thumping like a drum.
Never had she felt so clearly that Cyrus Hawthorne seemed to have changed.
He’s become even more unfathomable.
"You... don’t be impulsive." Under the eaves, one must bow, Ann Vaughn couldn’t gauge the seriousness of Cyrus’s words.
But clearly, provoking him at this point was not wise.
She’s not cowardly, just sensible.
"Be good, hmm?" Cyrus whispered heavily in her ear, then picked her up and walked toward the large bed.
After laying her down, he followed and lay by her side.
Ann Vaughn’s nerves tensed up instantly, she gritted her teeth and angrily said, "What are you doing up here? Get off!"
"I’ll leave once you fall asleep." He replied flatly.
Who’s gonna believe that!
Ann Vaughn turned around, rolling her eyes, knowing that if he didn’t leave voluntarily, her two injured legs couldn’t deal with him.
So she stuffed the quilt and extra pillows between them, to prevent him from suddenly acting on impulse.
But sharing the bed with him made Ann Vaughn feel uneasy, wanting to distance herself from him as far as possible, curling up to the other side of the bed.
"Over these four years, how have you been?" Behind her was Cyrus’s low inquiry.
"Thanks to you, just splendid." Ann Vaughn sneered, placing her hand on her waist.
This way, if he dared to make any moves, the Golden Needle in her hand was not there just for show.
Though she didn’t really want to harm his body, fearing it might affect her plans, if necessary...
Cyrus’s narrow eyes flashed slightly as he looked at her resistant back, the curve of his lips a bit bitter.
Neither spoke again, and the room returned to silence.
Until the steady breathing from Ann Vaughn’s side could be heard, Cyrus quietly got up, staring at her for a long time before leaving the room.
As soon as he stepped out of the door, Cyrus’s heroic brows furrowed, a perplexing doubt plaguing him.
Then he walked into the study next door and sent a message to Silas Master Moore.
Uncle Dexter’s methods didn’t seem to work on Ann Vaughn at all.
Neither catering to her interests nor using unconventional means only drove her further away.
Why is that?
Silas Master Moore: "Hahahaha Cian, you’re really not suited for pursuing someone, it’s a wonder you didn’t scare her away, hahaha."
Across from him, Silas Master Moore almost spat his drink on his phone when he saw Cyrus’s message, laughing as he pounded the table.
The people in the private room were all looking at him oddly.
But he just couldn’t help it.
Seeing Silas’s string of "haha", Cyrus’s handsome face darkened, "Do you want to die?"
"No, no, I just couldn’t help it." Silas laughed for a while, until he sent another message to Cyrus.
[Message sent but rejected by the recipient.]
Silas’s gleeful grin froze on his face, bitterly lamenting his misfortune; he was just sitting in a bar, and trouble fell from the sky.
At that moment, a call from "Leona Chambers" came in.
Silas’s gaze turned cold, and he placed the phone face down on the bar counter, continuing to drink.
It was about two in the morning.
Mark Joyce was startled awake in his bed by their boss’s unique message tone.
[Compile a detailed report on pursuit methods and give it to me by morning.]
Mark Joyce: ???
Is this a scam message? How could their brilliant and wise BOSS make such a nonsensical request?
He checked the phone number again, word for word.
Mark Joyce looked numb, then tossed his phone aside.
That’s it, his new phone was suddenly infected with a virus.