Chapter 281: Chapter 281: Mr. Hawthorne Can Smile Too?
At this moment, she heard Uncle Dexter speak again.
"By the way, young master, several heads of the institute’s core laboratory have been waiting for you in the study."
"Hmm, I’ll go shortly."
Core laboratory?
Ann Vaughn ascended the steps, and upon hearing those five words, it felt as if a door in her mind had suddenly opened, and she was forcefully reminded of a matter!
Because this happened before the kidnapping, she had been troubled by the heart surgery that took place four years ago, and thus hadn’t recalled it sooner.
She had reviewed all the records in the reagent warehouse and found that Virus N3H5 indeed originated from the institute.
Moreover... things were far more complicated than Ann Vaughn initially anticipated.
The room next to the master bedroom had been remodeled, and whether it’s the style or arrangement, it’s been crafted to an incredible degree.
A heavy wool carpet was spread from the entrance to the floor-to-ceiling windows, and the entire room adopted a warm white tone, from the walk-in closet to the ceiling’s patterns, all appealing to her taste.
It was as if it directly catered to Ann Vaughn’s preferences with intense precision.
"Your room was personally designed by the young master, and all these furniture and decorations were personally selected and placed by him; not a single bit allowed us to interfere."
The servant, who came in to replace the vase, couldn’t help but comment as he saw the expression of fondness on Ann Vaughn’s face.
Ann Vaughn’s slender finger paused slightly on the beaded curtain, somewhat surprised as she looked at the servant, "He arranged all this by himself?"
How come she didn’t know Cyrus Hawthorne had such a skill?
The servant smiled and nodded, "The beaded curtain in your hand was strung one by one by Mr. Hawthorne in the garden and then hung personally. The young master mentioned to Uncle Dexter that you used to like it very much when you were young."
This event did linger in Ann Vaughn’s memory; she remembered that she couldn’t take her eyes off the bead curtains she saw on TV as a child and liked them immensely.
But liking them was one thing; she never mentioned it to her grandfather.
How did Cyrus Hawthorne know she liked this?
Ann Vaughn’s chest moved slightly, and she placed the beaded curtain away, heading towards outside the room.
After a while, Ann Vaughn walked to the study room holding a glass of milk, hesitating whether to enter or not.
The researchers in the core laboratory were all handling confidential projects; she had just been transferred there by Shane Shaw and hadn’t had the chance to investigate when the kidnapping happened.
Therefore, she didn’t recognize any of the members inside.
She wanted to use the pretense of delivering milk to boldly eavesdrop, just afraid she might get kicked out...
As Ann Vaughn was hesitating whether to knock, the tightly closed study room door suddenly opened.
Mark Joyce stood there, respectfully saying to her, "Miss Vaughn, President Hawthorne asked you to come in."
Ann Vaughn was stunned for a few seconds, then nodded and walked into the study with the milk.
Several researchers in white lab coats stood in front of the obsidian desk in the study, with stacks of documents on the tabletop.
Cyrus Hawthorne was sitting behind the desk, holding a document, and upon seeing Ann Vaughn enter, calmly put it away.
"Standing outside, aren’t your legs sore?" he said in a deep voice.
Ann Vaughn’s eyebrows twitched, "How did you know it was me outside?"
Could he possibly have x-ray vision?
Cyrus Hawthorne remained silent, pointing with his well-defined chin to the computer’s position.
When Ann Vaughn looked up with doubts, she saw the surveillance footage above...
Only then did she remember that surveillance cameras were installed all around this villa.
Luckily, she didn’t uproot the herbs outside in the medicinal garden; otherwise, wouldn’t he have discovered it in minutes?
Cyrus Hawthorne seemed to see through her thoughts at the moment; a hint of amusement appeared in his calm brows and eyes, "The last time you uprooted seven herbs from my medicinal garden, I saw it too."
Ann Vaughn: "..."
The breath she hadn’t relaxed got stuck in her throat; after placing the milk down, she decisively turned around and walked away.
Cyrus Hawthorne watched her pouting figure with a smile in his narrowed eyes, as if the cold atmosphere around him had completely vanished.
The researchers standing in front of the desk looked at each other, looking as if they’ve seen a ghost.
So Mr. Hawthorne could laugh?
They thought Mr. Hawthorne was born with a cold-faced Yama’s face.
Getting back on topic, the researchers continued to report on the project’s progress.
Ann Vaughn intentionally slowed her pace to leave, just overhearing them mentioning deploying the MX plan in various countries.
Her back stiffened slightly, wanting to hear more, but the study door was already right in front.
Daring not to pause at the study door, Ann Vaughn directly returned to her room, her heart racing.
She had seen records related to the MX plan in the reagent warehouse, a destructive virus giving no time to administer an antidote before exploding instantly.
Had Cyrus Hawthorne gone mad to have such a virus developed?
They seemed to plan on dispatching people overseas tomorrow, with Cyrus Hawthorne also going personally.
How could she possibly stop them?
Ann Vaughn took a deep breath and suddenly calmed down, her bright eyes sparkling with a reckless glow.
She stepped into the bathroom, not even taking off her long dress, and pressed the shower switch, letting the cold water pour over her head.
The biting cold instantly made Ann Vaughn shiver fiercely; she hugged her arms tightly, her teeth clenching her lips just to keep herself from making a sound.
Damn it, it’s too cold.
Why does her mind always come up with lousy ideas!
Luckily, the idea was bad, but the effect was immediate.
Ann Vaughn changed into her nightwear, left the bathroom with wet hair, her head feeling somewhat heavy, but it wasn’t enough yet.
She turned off the heating in her bedroom, opened the floor-to-ceiling windows to let the cold wind in.
The breeze made Ann Vaughn’s head spin; she used the back of her hand to test her forehead temperature but felt nothing unusual.
She let the floor-to-ceiling windows stay open, climbed onto bed, and soon fell into a deep slumber.
Half awake, Ann Vaughn felt something cool and comfortable pressed against her forehead, and she instinctively hugged it, rubbing it against her burning cheek.
"She’s got a fever; have the doctor come over." Cyrus Hawthorne looked down at Ann Vaughn’s face, red as if it was going to drip blood, and spoke in a low voice.
"How did she come down with a fever out of nowhere? She was fine just now..." Uncle Dexter muttered as he went out to call the family doctor.
Cyrus Hawthorne let Ann Vaughn hold his palm close, his gaze shifting from the bedroom’s heating to the open floor-to-ceiling windows, pursing his thin lips.
He gently withdrew his hand, got up to close the floor-to-ceiling windows, and turned the heating back on.
Afterward, he walked into the bathroom, took a clean towel, and just as he was about to wet it, his eyes suddenly paused.