Chapter 568: Chapter 568: He Doesn’t Trust Her
In fact, if it weren’t for being concerned about her arm injury, Cyrus Hawthorne might not have let her off so easily.
He would definitely use his actions to make her feel the "reality" deeply.
Ann Vaughn’s arms were deeply scratched, especially at the elbow, with dark red blood still oozing from the wound, mixed with small bits of gravel.
Her skin was unfairly smooth and fair, and such severe injuries on it felt like blemishes on fine jade, making one feel heartbroken.
Earlier, due to being worried about Kenny’s safety, Ann Vaughn didn’t even realize she was injured, let alone injured this seriously.
Now that she looked, she belatedly felt the pain, her small face turning pale.
Cyrus Hawthorne’s expression was no better than hers, from the moment he started disinfecting and medicating her wounds, his handsome face became intensely cold and stern.
Despite his actions in applying medicine being exceptionally gentle, Ann Vaughn still made small gasping sounds.
When he looked up, he saw the pitiful image of her delicate eyes, brimmed with tears.
Cyrus Hawthorne’s complexion became increasingly grim, his entire demeanor somber like Asura from the underworld.
The chill in the hospital room intensified, causing the nurse who came to deliver something to shiver.
Without daring to say a word, she quickly placed the items and ran out.
Seeing the tension in the hospital room intensify, Ann Vaughn shrunk her little neck, attempting to divert Cyrus Hawthorne’s attention: "Grandpa would surely be very happy to know you’re alright."
"Grandpa knows." Cyrus Hawthorne replied indifferently, opening the ointment brought by the nurse and evenly applying it to Ann Vaughn’s wounds.
Ann Vaughn: ???
"What do you mean?" Ann Vaughn suddenly understood the implications of his words, her eyes widening, "Does this mean your death news was fake from the very start?!"
Cyrus Hawthorne slightly nodded without elaborating.
With his admission, Ann Vaughn felt a burning anger in her heart, "Then why didn’t you tell me?"
"The situation didn’t allow it." His answer was concise, not even bothering to explain, focusing on dressing her wounds.
Although Ann Vaughn vaguely guessed he had considerations for not telling her the truth.
But to come to terms, it’s not simply a matter of understanding and comprehension.
Because it precisely indicates—
He doesn’t trust her.
Ann Vaughn didn’t know how she suddenly became sentimental, clearly he just needed to come back safely.
Yet she couldn’t stop herself from overthinking and speculating.
As she thought, tiredness suddenly overwhelmed her, and Ann Vaughn couldn’t help but yawn.
"If you’re tired, sleep. I’ll wake you when Kenny wakes up." A hint of smile surfaced in Cyrus Hawthorne’s indifferent narrow eyes as he leaned over to adjust the pillow behind her.
One hand protecting her injured area, he helped her lie down.
But Ann Vaughn held onto his wrist, her sleepy voice soft and warm, "I want you to stay with me."
She was afraid that when she woke up, he would be gone.
A little surprise flashed across Cyrus Hawthorne’s cold face, quickly replaced by pleasure in his dark eyes.
He pulled back the blanket and lay beside her, mindful of her injuries he didn’t hold her like usual to avoid hurting her.
But unexpectedly, Ann Vaughn was restless, wriggling into his embrace, comfortably resting her head on his chest, her little hands placed on his waist.
Normally, getting Ann Vaughn to initiate once was almost impossible.
Even when he wanted to hold her before sleeping, he had to use all his tricks to coax her into his arms.
The most direct method, naturally, was to make her powerless to resist, having to yield obediently.
Yet the times she willingly snuggled into his arms... could be counted on one hand.
Cyrus Hawthorne’s narrow eyes grew darker and deeper, his long arm wrapped around her shoulder, teasingly asking, "Being so proactive, what guilty thing have you done?"
Ann Vaughn didn’t like hearing this, did she need to commit a guilty act to be proactive towards him?!
...It seems she did at times.
Moreover, speaking of guilty acts.
—The earlier confession from Sutton Jennings at the hospital, Cyrus Hawthorne absolutely shouldn’t know about it.
With a strong survival instinct, Ann Vaughn forcefully swallowed the rebuttal that was about to escape her lips, "You’re being biased, aren’t you? Haven’t I actively spent time with you before?"
Didn’t it happen time and again, with him none the wiser about her handiwork?
Thinking of her past "accomplishments," Ann Vaughn felt exuberantly proud.
She couldn’t help it, she had been suppressed for too long, imagining scenes where she had overpowered him gave her a victorious sense of satisfaction.
Suddenly, she felt a tightness in her shoulder.
Then, the dangerously low voice of the man came from above her head: "Mrs. Hawthorne, thanks for reminding me, otherwise I’d have forgotten about the unsettled scores."
Her skin chilled, making Ann Vaughn’s nape tingle, realizing the foolishness of what she had said.
Why did she stir up trouble by bringing up that topic!??
But it’s too late to regret, Cyrus Hawthorne’s long arms pulled her body back as she attempted to flee.
The rare gentleness he intended to show for her injuries was immediately withdrawn.
Ann Vaughn panicked so much, her arms still aching, unable to muster enough strength to push him away, let alone prevent his next move.
"Wait... this is a hospital!"
The door wasn’t locked, anyone could come in, just the thought made Ann Vaughn shy enough to explode.
"Just be good."
Ann Vaughn was nearly frantic, knowing she couldn’t escape, yet still wanting to resist a bit, "Lock the door first!"
Cyrus Hawthorne lowered his eyes, gazing at her tense body from extreme nervousness, his thin lips curling as he kissed her lips lightly, and then descended—
"Cyrus Hawthorne—!!"