Chapter 353: Chapter 353: Their Child with Annie
"Move aside first, Kenny is outside." Ann Vaughn reached out to push Cyrus Hawthorne, who was still panting softly, and urged him in a low voice.
Cyrus didn’t budge an inch, his gaze fixed on her like two flames burning within, his jawline tensed, he threatened hoarsely, "Me, or that little brat?"
Pfft.
Seeing the restrained and controlled appearance of the man, Ann Vaughn couldn’t help but burst into laughter, even the grievance brought by his questioning was replaced by amusement.
"This is the price you have to pay for not liking him in the first place."
The Little Dumpling might have remembered him from when he was in her belly, so every time the two met, they were in opposition.
Upon hearing this, Cyrus’ face turned so dark it could drip ink, he frowned unhappily.
"Mommy, baby is scared, boohoo..." The Little Dumpling started sobbing outside the door.
"Mommy’s coming, baby wait a moment!" Hearing her son, who never cried, actually crying, Ann Vaughn immediately panicked, pushed Cyrus away, dressed quickly, and ran to the door.
As soon as she opened the door, Kenny threw himself into Ann Vaughn’s arms, nuzzled her neck, his soft voice still tinged with a sob, "Baby’s scared, wants mommy to hold."
While talking, Kenny looked into the room with a triumphant smile that didn’t match his voice, and found The Archfiend with a gloomy face, making a face instantly.
Little brat...
Cyrus narrowed his eyes, slowly pulling up the collar of his robe, watching Kenny act spoiled and cry in Ann Vaughn’s arms, his thin lips tugged slightly.
If it weren’t for the fact he was his son...
He would have tossed him out long ago.
Ann Vaughn didn’t notice the silent confrontation between father and son. After comforting Kenny, she took him to the room next door.
Completely leaving the man behind her whose mood was as heavy as water out of her mind.
The Little Dumpling had long been taken to the hot spring in the backyard by Old Master Hawthorne, smelling fragrant now, like a plump sticky rice dumpling.
"Baby, mommy will go take a bath first, you stay here obediently, and I’ll tell you a story when I come out." Seeing Kenny was coaxed, Ann Vaughn took her clothes to the bathroom.
"Okay." Kenny responded softly, then ran to the bathroom door, squatted like a mushroom, "Mommy, open a window for ventilation, don’t stay too long."
"Don’t worry, baby."
The feeling of stickiness on her body wasn’t light. At the start, Ann Vaughn endured it, and once the hot water was ready, she eagerly walked into the bathtub.
The moment she was wrapped in hot water, she nearly sighed.
But thinking of the Little Dumpling squatting at the bathroom door waiting for her, Ann Vaughn didn’t soak for too long, dried off and changed into her robe and went out.
"Mommy, Kenny wants to hear the story of a knight defeating The Archfiend today!" Kenny followed Ann Vaughn, cheerfully saying.
"Okay, mommy will tell you." Ann Vaughn was puzzled for a few seconds since Kenny usually liked to listen to world classics or strange tales, never interested in fairy tales.
Could it be that the Little Dumpling’s childlike heart had finally awakened?
In the middle of the night.
The guest room door was gently pushed open from the outside without making a sound.
Soon after, a slender figure stepped into the room, heading straight to the bed.
The warm yellow light from the diamond-shaped wall lamp enveloped the sleeping big and small figures on the bed, like a ray of light piercing into the man’s dark eyes in the endless night.
He reached out his hand, his fingertip lightly poked at Kenny’s soft little cheek,
The warm tender sensation seemed to transfer through his fingertip into his heart, instantly filling the part of his chest that had a missing corner.
Fulfilling, slightly swelling.
This is... their child.
Not just a phantom disappearing before his eyes, sketched in his mind countless times.
Nor was it that cold, uninhabited grave, knowing it would never come to life but still pondering over a name, ending in guilt and emptiness.
Cyrus closed his black eyes slightly, recalling the disappointment and apprehension unintentionally revealed by Ann Vaughn when she questioned him earlier, a gloom covered his face that couldn’t easily be lifted.
How could he not like this child?
He wanted this child more than anyone before learning she had uterine fibroids.
For a long time, Cyrus opened his eyes again, with the pain replaced by warmth, a light shimmer circulating.
He bent down to pick Ann Vaughn up from the bed, stuffing a pillow into Kenny’s arms, seeing him nuzzle it with no sign of waking.
A faint smile appeared on his finely carved face.
Little brat, hold the pillow and sleep on your own.
But as soon as he carried Ann Vaughn back to the bedroom and laid her down, she opened her drowsy eyes, looked at him completely confused.
"Why are you in my room?"
"Why, don’t want to see me?" Cyrus said in a deep voice, lifting the quilt to lie by her side, pulling her into his arms with his strong arm.
Ann Vaughn’s cheek unexpectedly pressed against his chest, her slender legs kicked uneasily, turning her head, not speaking.
Cyrus tightened his arm around her shoulder, his chin rested lightly on her soft hair, thin lips pursed slightly.
The moonlight outside the floor-to-ceiling window spilled into the room, laying a thin layer of silver frost, accentuating the cold quiet atmosphere.
An unknown irritation circled in Ann Vaughn’s heart, unable to find an outlet.
The past hurts, which could have been forgotten upon waking, resurfaced due to Cyrus waking her.
The more she thought, the harder it was to stay calm, turning to change positions, silently counting sheep, unable to sleep.
"If you move again, bear the consequences."
As Ann Vaughn was about to turn over, she heard a harshly hoarse voice from above, accompanied by a hand roaming to her waist, the hot temperature was somewhat overwhelming.
Her whole body instantly tensed, two blushes rising on her face.
"Don’t mess around, you don’t know when Kenny will wake up."
Cyrus, with a calm expression, said in a deep voice, "That’s exactly why I don’t like little brats."
Hearing this, Ann Vaughn scrunched up her face, lifting her head to glare at him, "So you don’t like Kenny either?"
He responded absentmindedly, watching her furious look, his thin lips suddenly lifted, then lightly pecked her lips.
Ann Vaughn’s eyes froze.
In the intimacy of lips and teeth, she seemed to hear him sigh a phrase.
It seemed to be—
"How could I not like our child?"
Like a breeze passing, it vanished from her ear in a moment.
So quickly Ann Vaughn couldn’t tell if it was real or her imagination.
Just like she couldn’t be sure if Cyrus’ anger at her hiding Kenny’s parentage was out of male pride or...