Chapter 382: Chapter 382: Rare Initiative
Ann Vaughn held the card and looked at the box of medicinal herbs, feeling a warm sensation slowly flowing through her heart.
The project was already challenging and busy, and most of the time Eli Sheridan could only reply to her messages late at night. Recently, he had even lost contact altogether, indicating just how busy he must be.
He claimed to have discovered these herbs by chance, but considering the quantity in this big box, he most likely went out of his way to have someone gather them.
This was probably the "gift" he mentioned he would give her earlier.
"Although he’s not your biological brother, Eli Sheridan truly treats you exceptionally well." Susie Sommers looked at the heap of herbs and clicked her tongue in wonder, sighing, "If only I had a brother too..."
She didn’t finish the sentence and fell silent.
Ha, she almost forgot, she originally had a brother.
A treacherous, despicable "good brother."
...
After returning to her room, Ann Vaughn called Eli Sheridan, but after waiting for a long time with no answer, she texted him instead.
However, there was still no response. She recalled hearing Eli mention the poor signal at his location, making it hard to contact him.
After setting her phone down, Ann organized the herbs, sorting and calculating which root might be viable for planting in the backyard garden.
Growing flowers is boring; growing medicinal herbs would be much more satisfying.
After arranging everything, Ann took some clothes to the bathroom for a bath, spending a full hour before coming out.
The sound of her phone vibrating suddenly reached her ears. She paused her hair-drying motion for a few seconds, listened carefully, and walked over to the sofa to take her phone out of a black coat.
The incoming call showed just a string of numbers, no name.
Not seeing Cyrus Hawthorne in the room, Ann decided to take the phone to the study to look for him, but he wasn’t there either.
With no time to waste, Ann swiped to answer the call, about to speak, when she heard a slightly familiar voice on the other end.
"Regarding the custody discussion we had this morning, I have a few points to add that could greatly aid in winning the case..."
Ann Vaughn’s footsteps suddenly froze in place!
This person...what did they just say?!
At this moment, footsteps suddenly approached from behind.
Startled, Ann quickly hung up the phone and hid it behind her back before turning to see a servant approaching with a tray of snacks.
"Miss Vaughn, you ate very little at dinner; Uncle Dexter instructed the chef to prepare some appetizers for you," the servant said.
"Thank you, please give it to me." Ann forced a smile and took the tray from the servant, then went into her room.
Once inside, she put the tray on the table and angrily threw the phone back into the black coat pocket.
Despite this, the anger rising from her heart was so overwhelming that Ann found it hard to breathe, filled with frustration.
She took a deep breath, trying hard to calm herself down.
To hell with calming down!
Ann clenched her teeth, pulling open a drawer to take out a packet of medicine, then headed downstairs.
By now, most of the servants were resting, and Ann alone went to the kitchen, her face a mask of coldness as she placed the packet into a small pot for decocting medicine.
Before long, the smell of traditional medicine wafted through the kitchen.
This time she increased the dosage, determined that she wouldn’t fail to conceive!
Once she conceived, she would immediately leave S Country with Kenny, never to face this man again!
If she hadn’t already learned about their divorce, would she have remained unaware of all his schemes concerning Kenny’s custody behind her back?!
Ann could tolerate him deceiving her about the divorce, but planning against her to such an extent over Kenny’s custody was intolerable!
Laura Quinn wanting to take Kenny from her was one thing, but to think he aligned with her.
Indeed, she could never understand what went on in Cyrus Hawthorne’s mind.
Neither before nor now.
Ann stared blankly at the marble countertop for a long time, her tightly pressed lips gradually losing color, her face ashen.
Once the medicine was cooled, Ann picked up the bowl, taking tiny sips of the unbearably bitter decoction.
"Are you taking medicine?" Suddenly, a deep, cold voice came from the kitchen door.
Ann’s hands trembled slightly as she held the bowl, but she gritted her teeth against the unpleasant taste, drinking the entire bowl in one go.
The bitterness numbing her tongue brought tears to her eyes, bitter to the core, and unbearable.
Cyrus Hawthorne casually placed his car keys aside, walked over, and took hold of Ann’s wrist. Looking at the dregs in the bowl she held, his brows furrowed tightly, "Are you unwell?"
"Just medicine for health maintenance, I frequently drink it." Ann withdrew her hand coldly, placed the bowl down, and turned to leave.
Her overly indifferent attitude caused a flicker of concern in Cyrus’s eyes; instinctively, he felt that something must have happened during his absence.
As for what she called health-maintenance medicine...it seemed rather unusual.
Having someone take the leftover dregs for lab analysis, Cyrus then stepped into the elevator.
Returning to the main bedroom, he saw Ann laying on the bed, the covers pulled over her head, a gesture clearly showing her reluctance to communicate. Cyrus’s brows knitted with some helplessness before he headed to the bathroom to freshen up.
When Cyrus came out in a sleep robe, holding a book while reclining against the headboard, slowly flipping through its pages.
Ann, who appeared to be sleeping quietly beside him, suddenly rolled over, arriving at his side, and ended up pinning him beneath her.
The book in Cyrus’s hand fell aside, his lazy eyes observing Ann’s unusually cold demeanor, and he couldn’t help but reach out to poke her cheek.
"What’s the tantrum for? Hmm?"
"I’m not throwing a tantrum!"
His casual remark ignited her temper like a barrel of gunpowder.
The simmering fury Ann had been holding in all evening burned away any semblance of rationality.
Tonight, she had to succeed no matter what!
With this conviction, Ann rarely took the initiative.
Indeed, she was truly fierce this time.
The potion with increased dosage had been consumed, and tonight, backing down was not an option!