Chapter 715: Chapter 715: I Promise You
The clock pointed to five o’clock, and after Ann Vaughn finished reading the nurse’s message about Kenny, she forced herself to get up and went to the kitchen to start preparing dinner.
Time ticked away, and the vintage clock’s hands in the dark living room slowly pointed to eight o’clock.
The slender figure quietly sitting by the dining table remained still, holding the same posture the entire time.
The phone on the table never rang.
The big door was never pushed open.
The dishes on the table cooled several times, and after repeated reheating, the aroma was far less than it initially was.
Ann Vaughn’s gaze transitioned from hopeful and nervous anticipation to worried unease, and then to emptiness and numbness, as if falling from heaven into the abyss, in the blink of an eye reaching a point of no return.
She waited from morning till nightfall, but the person she awaited never came.
He broke the promise.
Ann Vaughn lowered her eyes, hiding the self-mockery within them, then slowly stood up, enduring the fine pain that rose from sitting too long.
She threw all the completely cooled food into the trash can.
After doing this, Ann Vaughn picked up the phone on the table and dialed Laura Quinn’s number.
"Have you thought it through?" came Laura Quinn’s unsurprised voice from the other side.
Ann Vaughn’s cold fingers grasped tightly, her eyes reflecting no light. Those words lingered on her lips, and only after a long time did she speak.
"I agree."
...
QY Research Institute.
After a full seven hours, the door to the operating room finally opened, and the experts in light green surgical gowns came out.
The long-waiting Mark Joyce and Director Shaw immediately stepped forward, repeatedly asking, "How is it? Is President Hawthorne alright?"
"Fortunately, he was brought in not long after he fell unconscious; otherwise, President Hawthorne’s life would have been in jeopardy today," said the leading expert. "Although we’ve temporarily suppressed the virus in his body, it can only be maintained for a little over a month at most."
Mark Joyce furrowed his brows, "Hasn’t the institute already developed suppressive drugs and treatment methods?"
"That’s correct. But every time this drug is used, President Hawthorne’s body develops some resistance to it. It worked this time, but next time, no one can guarantee it." The expert shook his head in explanation. "Special Assistant Joyce may not know, but the number of deaths abroad due to secondary viral infections is unimaginably large. If it weren’t for President Hawthorne’s incredibly strong willpower and endurance, he wouldn’t have held on this long. If it were anyone else..."
Hearing the expert’s implications, Mark Joyce fell silent for a while, "When can President Hawthorne wake up?"
The expert estimated the time, "At the earliest, the day after tomorrow, and that’s a positive estimate. In a worse scenario, it could take up to a week."
A week?!
Mark Joyce was almost dizzy with shock.
Last night, Aidan Keating suddenly went missing, and shortly afterward, he received news that the young master was rushed to the hospital for urgent surgery.
Even if the Shadow Guard and intelligence network were mobilized, tracking down Aidan Keating would be easy, no matter how far he fled.
But without President Hawthorne’s authorization, no one, not even his confidant, is allowed to deploy these two forces.
When President Hawthorne wakes, he might very well take the lives of those incompetent subordinates!
The next day.
Mark Joyce was summoned by Ann Vaughn to Villa No. 8 and had even prepared a reason for President Hawthorne’s prolonged absence on the way there.
However, Ann Vaughn no longer inquired about Cyrus Hawthorne’s whereabouts.
She merely handed him a file folder, asking him to pass it on to Cyrus Hawthorne.
Ann Vaughn seemed unwell, as if she hadn’t slept all night. Her delicate face resembling a flower slowly wilting, inching towards decay.
Mark Joyce was a bit alarmed by Ann Vaughn’s state. Taking the file folder, he couldn’t help but offer comfort, "Miss Vaughn, President Hawthorne is truly ensnared by work and can’t break free. But in his spare time, he always asks me about young master’s condition."
Ann Vaughn responded listlessly with a sound, her slightly dim eyes turning to Mark Joyce, "Did he say when the surgery can happen?"
Mark Joyce suddenly felt his mouth go dry but maintained a calm facade, "Please wait a bit longer; it’s coming soon."
President Hawthorne rarely intervenes to save someone, yet he saved Aidan Keating’s life twice, helping him escape pursuit and regain freedom.
But who could have predicted that Aidan Keating would be such an ingrate?
He should never have saved this one in the first place.
Upon hearing Mark Joyce’s explanation, Ann Vaughn tightly pressed her colorless lips, lowering her gaze.
If there was nothing unusual with Aidan Keating, it would be impossible for Cyrus Hawthorne to gamble with Kenny’s life, endlessly delaying his surgery.
He kept her waiting for only one reason.
Aidan Keating is missing.
Indeed, everything was within Laura Quinn’s calculations.
Whether she admits it or not, she had to face it.
"I understand." Ann Vaughn took a deep breath, forcing back the bitterness in her eyes, solemnly telling Mark Joyce, "Please ensure that the document reaches Cyrus Hawthorne and that he signs it."
As the last word fell, Ann Vaughn’s complexion was unchanged, but inside, she felt as if her strength had been drained, barely able to stand by herself.
It’s as if she could no longer hear the sounds around her or feel herself.
Stripped of the soul, only the shell remained.
Mark Joyce suspiciously glanced at the file folder, but seeing nothing amiss with Ann Vaughn’s face, he dismissed his doubts.
"Rest assured, I will."
After Mark Joyce left, Ann Vaughn returned upstairs to bring down the luggage she had packed the night before.
She only took a few things, just two suitcases.
The phone had been buzzing continuously since last night, mostly calls from Old Master Hawthorne, which she coldly ignored with determination.
Laura Quinn wanted her to sever ties with the Hawthorne Family and to stop interacting. If Laura found out she’d been in contact with Old Master Hawthorne, she might push even further.
She could endure, but Kenny couldn’t wait any longer.
About half an hour later, Old Master Hawthorne, uneasy, sent someone to Villa No. 8 to find Ann Vaughn, only to discover she was already gone.
The Hidden Guard, who she’d deliberately sent away in advance, couldn’t have imagined that Ann Vaughn, who had always voluntarily taken them when going out, had actually run away through a dog hole in the back garden—
The news of Ann Vaughn’s disappearance quickly reached Old Master Hawthorne’s ears. Though he had long stopped handling affairs, he still had some power to immediately send people to search for her.
"Why did Young Madam suddenly run away? Could it be she’s afraid young master can’t be treated, becoming her burden, so..." the bodyguard beside Old Master Hawthorne whispered speculatively.
"Annie is not that kind of person." Old Master Hawthorne warned the bodyguard with a glare, "She values Kenny more than her own life, and moreover, her mental resilience is stronger than most."
"But why then..."
Old Master Hawthorne retracted his stern gaze, looking at the still-unconscious Kenny, sighed, and said sharply, "I fear the only reason is, she has suffered some injustice or threat and was forced to leave."