Chapter 158: Chapter 158: I Want Your Life
The sound coming from the stairwell behind the door gradually faded away.
"Ha—" Ann Vaughn let out a choked cry that she couldn’t suppress. She immediately covered her mouth tightly with both hands, only to find her cheeks already wet with tears.
Her heart felt as if it were being grasped and torn by an unknown giant hand, causing her to tremble, her body wanting to curl up.
But she could only use her remaining reason and consciousness to turn around and run back to the place she came from, as if doing so could distance her from the source of her fear and pain.
The stabbing sensation rising from her limbs made Ann Vaughn bend slightly at the waist, trying to reduce the pain, yet the choked sobs in her throat couldn’t be suppressed.
It hurts, it hurts so much.
Ann Vaughn walked forward in a tear-filled daze, the conversation she had just overheard outside the passage echoing continuously in her mind. Just thinking about it made her heart ache terribly, almost convulsing.
She had truly underestimated Cyrus Hawthorne’s ruthlessness towards her, or perhaps she had never truly understood him.
To ensure Cynthia’s surgery proceeded smoothly, he had gone to such heartless extremes!
The little prince she had waited for fifteen years couldn’t possibly treat her like this, it couldn’t be...
"She’s there, catch her!"
With a command, the rushing bodyguards quickly grabbed Ann Vaughn’s shoulders to restrain her, preventing her escape.
Ann Vaughn stared blankly at the ground until she was captured, then suddenly came to her senses and struggled violently, "Let me go, release me!"
She turned her head and fiercely bit the hand of the bodyguard holding her right shoulder!
Just then, a rush of footsteps approached, and Ann Vaughn’s hair was yanked backward by a hand, while another hand slapped her harshly across the face!
Ann Vaughn’s hands were held down, leaving her no time to block the slap, her lip corners oozing blood.
"Your sister’s condition has worsened, reaching a critical point with no retreat. As her elder sister, isn’t it right for you to do something for her! How dare you try to run away!"
Jade Shepherd’s voice pierced the eardrums, sharp and harsh, raising another hand to slap Ann Vaughn’s head, "Try to run again! Do you believe I won’t break your legs if you dare run again! If your sister suffers any harm, I’ll take your life!"
The pain on her cheeks mixed with dizziness transmitted into Ann Vaughn’s currently sensitive senses, almost making her faint, barely holding up.
She bit her lip fiercely, forcing all the tears back into her eyes, wanting to say something, but her throat was too hoarse to make a sound.
On one side were chaotic memories, and on the other were Jade’s unforgiving beatings and angry shouting, stirring up a metallic taste in Ann Vaughn’s throat.
"You wretched girl, have you heard what I said!" Thinking Ann Vaughn’s silence was due to her scolding, Jade Shepherd raised her hand to strike her face again!
But this time the slap didn’t land—
A long, jade-like finger stopped Jade Shepherd with undeniable force, pushing her away.
"Mrs. Vaughn, I call you with respect because you are an elder. But Ann Vaughn is my wife, Cyrus Hawthorne’s wife, no matter what. If you hit or scold her, are you challenging me or looking down on the Hawthorne Family?"
The man’s voice was so cold that it had almost no warmth, his hawk-like eyes carrying an inexplicable sense of murderous menace as he gazed at Jade Shepherd.
Jade Shepherd’s body shuddered, stunned by Cyrus Hawthorne’s words and gaze, retreating several steps before regaining steady footing, sheepishly saying, "It’s all this dead... girl’s fault for running away, I worried Cynthia would be affected. That’s why the anger took over, excuse me, President Hawthorne..."
Though she dared do anything to Ann Vaughn, she wouldn’t dare make a peep in front of Cyrus Hawthorne.
The scene seemed somewhat ludicrous, but Ann Vaughn felt only absurd and sarcastic.
She glanced at where Cyrus stood, and discovering he had indeed come from the direction of the escape passage, her stiff lips curled into a smile.
Indeed, she still foolishly harbored a glimmer of hope.
Ann Vaughn, you are such a failure.
Before the smile could fully bloom, Ann Vaughn fainted completely.
Cyrus Hawthorne’s eyes sharpened, extending his arm to catch Ann Vaughn’s limp body, then lifted her up and strode toward the ward.
"Call a doctor, hurry!"
With this stern command, the bodyguards instantly bustled with activity, even Jade Shepherd, who had been skulking quietly to the side, suddenly froze.
President Hawthorne’s expression just now... he was worried about that little wretch?
If he began to feel compassionate toward Ann Vaughn, then what about Cynthia?!
Understanding this, Jade Shepherd dared not stay even a second longer, hurrying away.
In the ward.
After examination, Ann Vaughn’s sudden fainting was due to excessive mental stimulus causing temporary collapse, her pregnancy was also somewhat unstable, requiring proper care.
Mental collapse?
"Have the obstetrician come to care for her, her body must be restored to optimal condition." Cyrus Hawthorne ordered with a deep frown.
"Don’t worry, we will do our utmost." the doctor said before leaving the ward.
The ward quietened down.
Cyrus Hawthorne stood by the bedside, bowing his head to look at Ann Vaughn’s paper-white face with tear stains still at the corners of her eyes, a part of him quietly twinge with pain.
He slowly reached out, wanting to wipe away the marks at Ann Vaughn’s eye corners.
Her tightly closed eyes suddenly furrowed, as if experiencing a terrible nightmare, her head turned to the side.
Happily evading his outstretched hand.
Cyrus Hawthorne’s motions paused, stopping for several seconds before retracting his hand, half-clenching it at his side, a flash of complexity sweeping over his handsome and unmatched face.
After some time, he sat by the bed, taking the ointment and cotton swabs from the table, gently brushing aside the soft strands covering Ann Vaughn’s bruised cheek, carefully applying the ointment.
Ann Vaughn’s skin had always been excellent, delicate like white porcelain, clear and soft, any small mark was evident, much more so with such a heavy slap mark.
Looking as if filled with blood, her lip corners were also split.
Watching made Cyrus Hawthorne’s frown deepen, nearly crushing the ointment tube in his hand.
After finishing up, the phone in Cyrus’ coat pocket suddenly vibrated.
Cyrus placed the ointment aside, glanced at the name on the phone, pupils slightly tightening, promptly getting up and exiting the ward.
Outside the ward, he answered the international call, speaking deeply, "Located?"
Whatever was said on the other end made Cyrus Hawthorne’s frown tighten further, the knuckles gripping the phone were pale.
As soon as he left, Ann Vaughn opened her eyes and gazed at the ceiling unaffectively.
Recalling what he said to the doctor earlier, she couldn’t help but laugh aloud self-mockingly.
A truly supremely dignified act.
She lived so unsuccessfully, the people she loved couldn’t wait to send her to her death.
And the ones she wished to protect eventually became nourishment for others’ lives.
As for her, no one cared.
With that thought, Ann Vaughn heavily closed her eyes, attempting to dispel the lingering chill encircling her heart, to no avail.
The next day.
The obstetrician sent to care for Ann Vaughn was indeed attentive, making her happy and thrilled if it were a day ago.
But now, it was just endless ridicule.