Chapter 717: Chapter 717: He Probably Hates Her to Death Now
Mark Joyce sighed inwardly and was just about to respond when he saw the latest message on his phone, and his expression changed dramatically.
"President Hawthorne, Miss Vaughn is at the Imperial Capital Airport now, planning to take the eight o’clock flight out of the Imperial Capital!"
Imperial Capital Airport.
"I’ve done what you asked. When are you going to fulfill your promise?" Ann Vaughn stood next to the restroom, lowered her voice, and questioned Laura Quinn on the other end of the phone.
Laura Quinn chuckled, unhurriedly, "What’s the rush? You haven’t even boarded the plane yet, have you?"
Upon hearing this, Ann Vaughn’s back went cold, her slightly reddened eyes scanned her surroundings warily, but with people coming and going, it was hard to tell where Laura Quinn was.
"You don’t have to look for me. When I see you board the plane, I will naturally fulfill my promise." Laura Quinn said, "Kenny is my grandson after all, I wouldn’t be cruel to him."
Wasn’t she cruel enough?
Ann Vaughn sarcastically tugged at the corner of her lips, "You better do as you say."
After saying that, she hung up the phone, leaned weakly against the wall, her head drooping, staring blankly at the blurry reflection on the floor.
Who would have thought that as she stared, a pair of shiny black leather shoes suddenly appeared in her sight, accompanied by a soft sound as they came to a halt beside her.
Ann Vaughn slowly lifted her head, and that exquisitely handsome face unexpectedly appeared before her.
In an instant, her heart trembled, and she stood transfixed, unable to move.
Facing those familiar deep eyes she used to see first thing in the morning, Ann Vaughn’s eyes suddenly filled with an aching heat, her throat feeling as if it were choking on a rock.
Unable to speak, the pain hit deep within her heart.
Seeing her dazed and lost gaze, Cyrus Hawthorne’s stern face softened slightly, his cool palm caressed her cheek, and he spoke in a deep voice, "It’s my fault for disappearing and making it hard for you to find me."
Ann Vaughn was stunned again.
"Not angry anymore, hmm?" Cyrus Hawthorne’s slightly rough finger brushed across the side of her face, then slid down to grasp her cold little hand, "Kenny is still waiting for you at the hospital."
His deep, slightly hoarse voice seemed to have a bewitching power, compelling Ann Vaughn to hold his hand back and follow his lead.
Yet, the mention of "Kenny" hit like a heavy hammer, striking hard on Ann Vaughn’s heart.
She suddenly pulled her hand back, stepped back two paces, her wide eyes coldly staring at Cyrus Hawthorne, "I’m not mad at you, I just suddenly realized something."
The softness in his palm suddenly retreated, Cyrus Hawthorne’s brows furrowed, a rare hint of panic flickering through his narrow eyes.
Ann Vaughn took a deep breath, summoning all her courage to say, "Cyrus Hawthorne, let’s divorce."
"Didn’t you ask before if I fell in love with you? My answer is, never." She struggled to steady her voice, "In my heart, there’s always been only one man, the one I’ve written about in my diary, the one I’ve waited fifteen years for."
"I... I cannot love you, nor can I endure being with you, feeling like I’m living a fate worse than death every moment. The person I love is him; without him, I’m just a walking corpse, with no will to live, but only now do I understand this."
"Please let me go, and let yourself go too, okay?"
With difficulty, she uttered the last sentence, Ann Vaughn’s heart had already twisted and ached to the point of numbness.
Admitting in front of him that she loved another man and saying that being by his side was worse than death...
For a man, it was an enormous humiliation.
But she understood very well that only by doing this, would Cyrus Hawthorne let her go.
His pride and dignity wouldn’t allow him to beg for the affection of a woman who didn’t love him.
Mark Joyce, who was waiting behind, almost foamed at the mouth in anxiety upon hearing Ann Vaughn’s ruthless words.
President Hawthorne was so worried something might happen to her that he disregarded his own health to come looking for her immediately, but how could she treat President Hawthorne like this?!
It turned out her gamble was right.
Cyrus Hawthorne’s suddenly icy gaze was like a sharp blade, fixed on Ann Vaughn’s feigned indifferent face, anger burning in his chest, almost consuming all his rationality and calm.
However, in less than a moment, his expression returned to its usual inscrutable calmness, and his gaze at Ann Vaughn lost all tenderness and indulgence.
There was only endless coldness and indifference.
"Are you absolutely sure?" These words, as if quenched in ice, were chilling to the core.
Ann Vaughn saw the clear change in his expression, yet she was equally merciless to herself, suppressing the swelling pain in her heart, and replied to him word by word.
"Absolutely sure."
...
Ann Vaughn sat dazedly in her seat, the scene of her confrontation with Cyrus Hawthorne replaying in her mind, the overwhelming bitterness and despair nearly drowned her.
"You’re crying." At this moment, a familiar voice came from beside her, accompanied by a handkerchief extended in front of her.
Ann Vaughn blankly turned her head and saw Elias Hawthorne sitting beside her.
After pausing for two seconds, she withdrew her gaze lightly, not asking why he was on this plane, and merely said, "The weather is not so good today, it’s raining quite heavily."
She should have taken an umbrella when she went out.
Elias Hawthorne glanced silently out of the window; the sun was shining brightly, the sky blue and clear, with wisps of white clouds idly adorning the blue canvas—rare good weather for the Imperial Capital.
He looked up again and wisely chose not to expose her lie, placing the handkerchief on her hand.
"Thank you." She said in a muffled voice, wiping away the ’rain’ from her face, managed a smile at him, and said, "I’ve gotten it dirty; I’ll return you a new one next time."
"No need." Elias Hawthorne dismissed it lightly.
Given her low spirits, Ann Vaughn didn’t even remember to ask Elias Hawthorne anything, just assuming he was heading to Marinia on business.
Before leaving, she had already arranged everything at the branch office, with an assistant and Elias Hawthorne there, she thought nothing would go awry under her remote management.
She had completely entrusted Vaughn Clinic to Sherry.
Her only concern, Kenny, would not suffer any grievances or hardships with Old Master Hawthorne and Cyrus Hawthorne around.
However, Cyrus Hawthorne...
Ann Vaughn clenched her fingers, that wave of panic surged again in her heart.
He probably already despised her.
...
The black Maybach drove steadily and swiftly down the road, the atmosphere inside the car oppressively stifling.
Sitting in the front seat, Mark Joyce worriedly looked back frequently in the rearview mirror at the man’s expression, unable to discern any signs from his impassive face.
"President Hawthorne, Miss Vaughn, she..."
Before he could finish, the man’s voice cut him off coldly, "From now on, don’t mention anything about her, including her name."
Mark Joyce was stunned with shock, quickly complying, "Yes!"