Chapter 404: Chapter 404: Did I Cuck Myself?
Boom!!
Ann Vaughn’s slightly tipsy brain exploded with a bang, leaving her blank for a while before she came back to her senses. She raised her head and looked at the refined man who had somehow appeared behind her, her red lips parting, "Uh..."
"Hmm?" Cyrus Hawthorne narrowed his eyes slowly at her, then sat down beside her, casually draping one arm over the back of her seat. From behind, it looked as if he was embracing her small frame.
Sitting opposite, Eli Sheridan narrowed his warm, gentle eyes and slowed his motion of fiddling with the Buddha Beads.
This man...
"There’s a rumor outside saying that Elliot and I have secretly decided for life and that we’re engaged... I don’t know who the fool is that spread it out." Ann Vaughn’s bright eyes shifted, adding another line, "Even if rumors must be spread, shouldn’t it be about the two of us?"
"Heh." Cyrus Hawthorne’s thin lips lifted into a faint smile, inadvertently melting the cold aura that had surrounded him. He raised his hand to rub Ann Vaughn’s head twice but said nothing.
"I say, aren’t you two ignoring me a bit too completely?" Eli Sheridan chuckled, looking at Cyrus Hawthorne, "After all, you still owe me a favor."
A favor?
Ann Vaughn curiously eyed them with her little eyes, "You know each other? How come I’ve never heard of it?"
"It’s a business connection; The Sheridan Group and Hawthorne Corp. have always been in cooperation." Eli Sheridan lifted the freshly delivered tea from the server and took a sip, "Though I never expected that President Hawthorne, so decisive and swift in the business world, would also be affected by a woman..."
"Still, this is the first time I’ve seen Mr. Sheridan suited up, looking much more handsome than before." Cyrus Hawthorne coughed lightly, his narrowed eyes hiding a hint of warning.
That’s his way of sealing Eli’s lips.
Eli Sheridan found this truly unbelievable and the smile on his face widened, "It certainly is a first, because the meaning is different."
These two... what kind of riddles are they speaking?
Ann Vaughn, with a muddled mind, yawned slightly and conveniently asked, "Could it be that someone important gave you this suit?"
"It was someone very important who gave it." Eli Sheridan paused with a smile, looking at Ann Vaughn, "But it wasn’t the suit, it was this."
He raised his hand slightly, revealing the pair of amethyst cufflinks.
Ann Vaughn’s eyes immediately brightened, "Did I gift you those cufflinks?"
When she left the Sheridan Family, she had entrusted the item to Uncle Vance, asking him to pass it on to Eli Sheridan once he returned.
She hadn’t expected Eli Sheridan to be so chivalrous and actually wear a suit to match those cufflinks!
So brotherly!
In her secret admiration of Eli Sheridan’s loyalty, Ann Vaughn didn’t notice the sudden icy expression of the man beside her, or the fierce, sinister aura erupting from those narrow, dark eyes.
Eli Sheridan nodded lightly, saying, "You have great taste; you picked a brand I like. If I didn’t wear them, it would be a waste, wouldn’t it? What does President Hawthorne think?"
He asked the last question deliberately, almost like provocation.
Cyrus Hawthorne’s expression remained calm and unruffled, like the depths of the sea below a thousand fathoms, without a ripple, leaving everyone guessing what he might be thinking.
Sitting beside him, Ann Vaughn also looked up with bright and expectant eyes, waiting for his reply.
"Tacky." Who knew, Cyrus Hawthorne’s thin lips lightly parted to utter four cold words as he elegantly set down his wine glass and nodded at Eli Sheridan, "The kitchen will resubmit the dishes, enjoy, Mr. Sheridan. Goodbye."
Saying this, the man rose, naturally buttoning up his suit jacket and turned to leave.
"Oh?" Eli Sheridan didn’t expect Cyrus Hawthorne to show no signs of anger, instead staying calm and composed, even arranging a new table of dishes for him.
In terms of previous favors, it didn’t seem to warrant this much...
Except...
Eli Sheridan chuckled lightly, watching Ann Vaughn, whose cheeks were flushed and now looking somewhat muddled as she watched Cyrus Hawthorne’s departing figure, he reminded her aloud, "Take my advice, you’d better catch up with him quickly."
"Why?" Ann Vaughn looked up at him, confused.
"A man’s intuition."
"..."
No matter what kind of intuition he had, Ann Vaughn still followed Eli Sheridan’s advice and grabbed her bag to chase after him.
Watching Ann Vaughn leave in a hurry, Eli Sheridan took another sip of his tea, sighing leisurely, "After all, she is the little cabbage I’ve nurtured for so long, why does she have to be taken away like this?"
"Luckily, she’s not my biological sister, otherwise..."
...
As Ann Vaughn left the restaurant, the black Maybach was about to start up. The cold wind made her already dizzy brain short-circuit for a moment, then she simply lay flat on the hood without moving.
Cyrus Hawthorne: "..."
Mark Joyce, about to drive: "..." No, Miss Vaughn, even if you want to pretend to be hit by the car, you don’t have to be this dramatic!
After quite a while, Ann Vaughn still lay motionless on the hood, as if she had fallen asleep on it.
Cyrus Hawthorne raised his hand to press his faintly aching brow, restraining the dark tide in his deep eyes, then got out of the car and walked to stand behind her, lifting her up horizontally.
Feeling the familiar warm embrace, Ann Vaughn instinctively hugged his neck, her little face rubbing against his collarbone, "Quinn, have you turned into a mushroom too?"
"..." The vein on Cyrus Hawthorne’s temple twitched slightly, seeming unwilling to deal with the drunken person in his arms, he directly shoved her into the car’s back seat.
Knowing her own low alcohol tolerance, Ann Vaughn yet acted like a little drunkard, couldn’t resist drinking whenever she saw alcohol.
Once she started drinking, she couldn’t stop, thinking just another couple of sips wouldn’t matter.
So she ended up like this.
Though the car seat was comfortable, even the floor was covered with a layer of high-grade cashmere carpet, Ann Vaughn still felt uncomfortable, persistently nestling into Cyrus Hawthorne’s embrace.
However, no matter how she squeezed in, Cyrus Hawthorne would sternly reposition her on the seat, not allowing her to approach him even a little.
Anyone else would have already keenly realized his mood wasn’t great and quickly retreated to avoid being caught in the crossfire.
But not Ann Vaughn, no matter how many times she was repositioned, she’d manage to wriggle back.
Until the fifth time Cyrus Hawthorne pushed her away mercilessly, Ann Vaughn finally exploded...
"Now you don’t hold me anymore, you heartless man! You used to call me Sweetie in bed and say you’d kick your wife aside to marry me! Once out of bed, you flip the table and don’t acknowledge me!"
"Are you afraid your wife will find out about our affair? I just knew it, men are all pigs!"
Rapid-fired words continually erupted from Ann Vaughn’s mouth, causing Mark Joyce, who was driving, to burst into laughter, nearly steering the car onto the landscaped verge.
Miss Vaughn really is the epitome of... self-greenifying?
The repressed clouds in Cyrus Hawthorne’s eyes deepened, as he narrowed in on Ann Vaughn’s angry yet somewhat pitiful face, he coldly replied, "Before accusing others, reflect on yourself first."