Chapter 419: Chapter 419: The Woman of Unknown Origin
"He must be deeply disappointed."
She had no right to inherit her grandfather’s mantle and continue the Vaughn Family’s tradition of Chinese medicine on his behalf.
Grandpa had never imagined that the granddaughter he considered the Vaughn Family’s hope and was most proud of would turn out to be... a stray child.
The overwhelming bitterness and complex emotions hit a breaking point in an instant. Ann Vaughn bit her lips hard, trying to push back those feelings, but her vision only grew blurrier.
The wrenching sound slowly yet intensely grated on her nerves from the deep recesses of her mind, giving her a sense of panic, as if everything she had experienced learning medicine by her grandfather’s side was a fabricated lie.
Just as Ann Vaughn was lost in wild thoughts, a pair of warm, slightly rough hands suddenly cupped her cheeks, gently raising her head.
Her small face was colorless and cool to the touch, her bright eyes now seemed like color-drained gems—empty and dull, with some hint of bewilderment when she lifted her gaze.
This image piercing into Cyrus Hawthorne’s eyes was just as heart-wrenching as a blade to the soul.
"Grandpa Vaughn didn’t cultivate a Vaughn Family heir, but Ann Vaughn." He sighed lowly, his always exquisite and peerless face remaining cold and indifferent, showing no trace of emotion.
Yet his rough fingertips gently wiped away the dampness on Ann Vaughn’s cheek with slow tenderness, as if he was afraid to hurt her, displaying controlled gentleness.
Perhaps it was this unfamiliar tender expression of his that Ann Vaughn had never seen before, the lingering tone even carrying a hint of indulgent affection, making her feel for a moment as if...
The panic was soothed away just like that.
Ann Vaughn was stunned, remaining in a daze for a long time. Her moist lashes fluttered lightly, causing the tears to roll down her eyes.
But what Grandpa wanted to cultivate was indeed the Vaughn Family heir.
Not Ann Vaughn.
By the time Ann Vaughn belatedly felt the exhaustion and drowsiness, falling asleep in a daze on Cyrus Hawthorne’s lap, it was already late at night.
Noticing the little one on his knees had quieted down, Cyrus Hawthorne placed the documents he was holding aside, narrow eyes fixating on her sleeping face as his brows knitted involuntarily.
The tear stains still lingered on her cheeks, her eyes and nose were reddened, and there were deep bite marks on her teeth, likely inadvertently made while trying to endure.
Even when saddened to the extreme, she would only vent quietly without making a fuss, never crying excessively or expressing grievances.
Even in moments like these, her first thought was that Grandpa Vaughn would be disappointed.
Cyrus Hawthorne’s narrow eyes darkened considerably. He raised a hand to gently caress Ann Vaughn’s smooth long hair, his lips curling slightly in helplessness.
After settling Ann Vaughn on another bed in the ward, Cyrus Hawthorne left the room and took out his phone.
Julian Ford, far away on the Isle of Flora gathering intelligence, was just about to dive into the sea when his phone rang.
Seeing the caller ID, Julian Ford grimaced and answered, "Bro, you don’t want the Cape Daisies again, right... My injuries just healed..."
The younger self who vowed to follow Hawthorne over mountains and across seas had been too naive.
Who could have foreseen the unreasonable nature of the residents on Isle of Flora?
He had only plucked a few flowers yet was chased halfway around the island by angry locals.
Thinking he had escaped a calamitous situation, he ended up caught by those lying in wait, receiving a thorough beating...
Who would have known he just picked a few flowers!!
Upon hearing this, Cyrus Hawthorne raised an eyebrow, "The Cape Daisies you sent were stolen?"
"How can you say stolen! I paid tens of thousands for them! Bought them!" Julian Ford hopped in indignation, old wounds starting to ache all over again.
To pacify the residents, he had no choice but to pay for the flowers he took, or he would have faced being thrown into the sea...
"I’ll have Mark Joyce reimburse you."
"You said it." Julian Ford responded contentedly, "What did you call so late for?"
By the time difference, it must be nearing dawn in S Country.
Cyrus Hawthorne replied unimpressed, then asked with creased brow, "How to please a woman?"
"Please—cough, cough!" Julian Ford, twisting open a bottle of cold water to drink, sprayed it everywhere, nearly choking himself, "Cyrus Hawthorne, have you finally given in?"
Ordinarily, women to him were no different from antique vases.
They might be extremely valuable, perhaps beautiful and full of charm, but ultimately just a decorative object placed at home without any importance.
Cynthia Vaughn once thought herself the exception in his life, the sole focus of all his affection.
Yet Julian Ford and Silas Master Moore always saw clearly the distinction—she was like an antique vase to Cyrus Hawthorne, only different in that she had saved his life.
And Ann Vaughn, whom Julian Ford humorously called sister-in-law, he only saw as someone whose child bestows her a rightful place in the Hawthorne Family.
Living overseas for years, he knew little of past events.
As for how Cyrus Hawthorne might look when in love with a woman...
Julian Ford didn’t dare imagine.
"Given in?"
Cyrus Hawthorne let out a low chuckle, his voice carrying a casual indifference, "What do you think."
"...I don’t think it’s possible." Julian Ford hesitantly speculated, "So, what did you do to upset the sister-in-law?"
But after Cyrus Hawthorne succinctly explained, the first thought Julian Ford had was—
"She’s not a Vaughn Family daughter, meaning her background is completely unknown? If anyone found out you married a woman of unclear origin..."
Cyrus Hawthorne’s expression turned icy, "My wife is none of their concern."
"Wait, you deployed The Shadow Guard back to S Country ahead of time, wasn’t it for her?"
"Stop the nonsense, how do I make it up to her?"
"..." Julian Ford was speechless. Which question was more important? Huh?!
Ann Vaughn’s initial status was already a mismatch for him, but at least she was of clean background, with no suspicious circumstances, barely acceptable.
But as it turned out, her background was unclear and her identity dubious. Not only didn’t Hawthorne send her to the underground, he kept her by his side.
What if this woman was intentionally sent by them to approach them, it would ruin everything...
Julian Ford took a deep breath, then said, "Women generally like flowers, jewelry, and accessories. Prepare a candlelight dinner and give her a gift to distract her."
"Shallow." Cyrus Hawthorne coldly uttered two words and then hung up the call.
Julian Ford: ???
Who? Who’s shallow??
If it were any other woman, Cyrus Hawthorne could easily follow Julian Ford’s advice, pacifying them with flowers, jewelry, or trinkets without effort.
But Ann Vaughn was not just any woman.