Chapter 168: Chapter 168: Cynthia Vaughn’s "Death Notice
But when Cynthia heard this, it was as if a demon was demanding her life.
Just the thought of Ann’s heart being cut out made Cynthia’s stomach cramp with pain, wanting to vomit but unable to, her hair disheveled as she dry-heaved continuously.
"Stop it! Please, stop talking!"
"I did nothing, it has nothing to do with me, nothing to do with me!"
"It was Ann who attacked me first, it was all her fault!"
"Ha." Cyrus let out a low, cold laugh, tossed the phone onto the bed, his voice freezing, "Forging surveillance, was that also Ann?"
"Taking someone else’s identity and deceiving me for fifteen years, was Ann forcing you too?"
Cynthia trembled more violently, her eyes widened with shock, thinking she had heard wrong.
Ann was already dead!
How could he know this? Why?!
Cynthia shivered abruptly, not daring even to retch again, crawling from the side of the bed to grab Cyrus’ clothes, but he coldly evaded her.
"Cian, let me explain, I really didn’t mean to deceive you back then, I just, just didn’t want you to be disappointed. Ann grew up in the countryside, unlike me, we are the ones who match."
Cynthia’s face was full of tears, her face already haggard after surgery, her crying made her look even more pitiful.
But there was not a ripple in Cyrus’ eyes, his hawk-like dark eyes coldly staring at her.
Seeing him not speak, Cynthia cried even harder, "Is it possible that all the years we spent together don’t compare to the less than half-year you had with Ann?"
"I’m the one who truly loves you, Ann was the one who took my place, the one who stole you from my side, the bitch who..."
"Cynthia!" Cyrus’ expression was increasingly cold, interrupting her harshly, "You think you could have special privileges with me because of who you are?"
Thinking back to the past, Cyrus’ eyes revealed a deep self-mockery.
If only he had been more cautious, confirming through multiple means, how could he have been deceived by such an absurd lie for so many years?
The very girl he had waited for fifteen years was right in front of him, yet he pushed her away time and again, coldly treating her, using her, distrusting her.
Only today did he realize how ridiculously wrong he had been.
But he could no longer redeem it.
"But Ann is already dead!" Cynthia was dumbfounded for several seconds, then shouted hoarsely, "She’s dead! Why have I worked so hard for so many years, yet you still love her and not me?!"
"Her death is good, deserves to die! Why didn’t she die sooner uh—"
Before Cynthia could finish her sentence, Cyrus suddenly grabbed her neck with one hand, rendering her unable to make a sound.
If he exerted just a little more force, he could have snapped Cynthia’s neck, making her feel fear and dread deep to her bones.
For so many years, she had been pampered and protected by Cyrus, forgetting her own identity.
As long as Cyrus was around, she could walk through The Imperial Capital with impunity, everyone had to show her respect.
She had been accustomed to this pampering and protection, contentedly enjoying what was never hers to begin with.
Yet she forgot that all this had a premise, once it disappeared.
She would have nothing left and would be nothing.
But even now, Cynthia had not realized that the one Cyrus loved all along was the little fox from childhood, grown-up Ann.
The one truly destroying others’ feelings was never Ann to begin with.
"Letting you die like this would be letting you off easy." From Cyrus’ thin lips escaped a low and cold statement, then he released his fingers.
Cynthia clutched her neck in terror, gasping for air, looking at Cyrus as if he were a demon!
"What, what do you want to do?!"
Cyrus did not answer her question, his narrow eyes swept over the meals on the table, and he laughed lowly, "Just a pile of dirt, did you really think I’d allow your filthy mouth to tarnish her?"
Cynthia was greatly shocked, looking at those meals, her face pale and flushed, a sense of humiliation burning within her.
Immediately, Cyrus casually brushed off nonexistent dust from his suit, as if some pollutant had touched him, then turned to leave.
Just as Cynthia breathed a sigh of relief, thinking she had narrowly escaped.
She heard that sound again, like the chains of a purgatory demon rattling—
"Since you love replacing others so much, I’ll fulfill your wish."
Cynthia’s eyes widened in horror, she wanted to plead, but the ward door had already closed.
She didn’t dare harbor even a glimmer of hope, unable to imagine what methods Cyrus would use to take revenge on her, leaving her with only one thought.
Cyrus had gone insane!
Cyrus indeed had gone insane.
He was crazily taking revenge on anyone who had ever hurt Ann, whether it was the Vaughn Family, Cynthia, Orion, or those thugs.
No one could escape his strikes of revenge.
Including himself.
In the midsummer, The Imperial Capital had uncharacteristically consistent rain, seven days without a glimpse of clear sky.
On the eighth day, the Vaughn Family announced the death of their daughter Cynthia, the cause was an infection after heart surgery, an unsuccessful rescue declared her dead.
Cynthia’s funeral was held grandly, with photos of a tear-faced Jade Shepherd, Howard Vaughn, and their eldest daughter Ann at the funeral dominating the headlines.
There was virtually no sympathy for Cynthia, who made her sister bear the tarnished reputation.
Almost everyone sympathized with Ann, who was once scorned, whose clinic was smashed, reputation ruined.
Yet almost no one knew that the "Ann" veiled in black at the funeral wasn’t Ann at all.
Those who knew the inside story, however, felt stunned by the fact that Cyrus would use this method to let Ann continue living.
Even if it was only in people’s hearts.
"Why do you have to do this?" Silas Master Moore lowered the car window, looking at the scene not far away, sighing as he spoke to the man dressed in black beside him.
First the cliff car race, then revenge on the Vaughn Family and Orion, now even doing something this absurd.
Absolutely insane.
"Have you ever thought," Cyrus lowered his gaze, staring at the black pendant in his hand, a thick fog of emotions shrouding his eyes, "perhaps Ann is still alive."
"That’s almost impossible," Silas said seriously, "I’ve sent people to verify several times, and the statements from doctors and nurses in the operating room were all consistent. Moreover, she... "
Had already been sent for cremation into ashes, even if there were countless possibilities, it can’t be that she was still alive.
Only, Silas dared not say those words.
Everything Cyrus had been doing lately, even this childhood friend felt a slight unfamiliarity and disbelief.
It seemed that with Ann’s death, she had also taken his heart and soul, leaving him without even a spark of vitality.
Alive yet seeming dead.
Cyrus did not respond, his narrow dark eyes peering through the surface of the pendant, almost as if a familiar vision flashed vividly before him.
"It’s okay, as long as the little fox will never leave the little prince."
His Adam’s apple bobbed, he slowly closed his eyes, burying all restraint and endurance behind his lips and teeth.
Little liar.
Since you’ve tricked me, why not trick me a bit longer, a while longer...