Chapter 446: Chapter 446: Let Me Help You Get Dressed
"It just looks serious, it’s not that bad." Ann Vaughn shook her head slightly, looking up at Miyi Yates’ genuine concern, feeling doubtful. Was her previous feeling just an illusion?
"That’s good. If you need anything, just instruct the servants, and they’ll prepare it for you," Miyi Yates said softly. "Then I won’t disturb you any longer. I wish you a speedy recovery."
The room returned to silence, slightly easing the strange feeling in Ann’s heart.
She was too lazy to ponder over the deeper meaning of Miyi Yates’ words spoken with the air of a hostess. If Cyrus really liked her, then she couldn’t bring herself to play stubbornly persistent.
The first half of her life was spent waiting, and now she just wanted to be good to herself.
She could probably manage... to turn and leave as if nothing happened.
But the more she thought about it, the gloomier Ann Vaughn’s mood became. Her eyes drooped sullenly, and her red lips pressed tightly together.
"Stop thinking about it." She warned herself softly, then reached out for one of the paper bags, removing her soiled clothes to change into something from inside.
Just as Ann was figuring out how to wear the intricate-looking dress in front of her, the door suddenly opened.
Instinctively, Ann looked up, thinking Miyi Yates had returned, but to her surprise, it was Cyrus Hawthorne standing at the door!
"Don’t come in!" Ann’s face turned bright red in an instant. She quickly grabbed a nearby blanket and shrank inside it!
Even though the blanket covered her completely, the heat radiating from her skin made Ann’s embarrassment overwhelming.
Cyrus closed the door behind him, his narrow eyes squinting slightly, recalling the fleeting sight of the soft curves and smooth shoulder line...
It was as if dark flames gathered in his lower abdomen, ready to erupt.
"Get out!" Ann, seeing him close the door, urged angrily.
Cyrus did not heed her wishes and instead took a few steps to the bed, picking up the dress she hadn’t had a chance to put on. His hoarse voice was seductively low, "Let me help you wear it."
"I don’t need it! I have hands and feet!" Ann would be mad to send herself to the wolf’s mouth; he used to help her dress before.
What happened while dressing?
She ended up crying hoarsely, and he coaxed her, one piece at a time?
Is that human speech??
Since then, Ann never dared let him help dress her, even locking the closet door to feel safe.
"Your leg is still injured. Even if I lack restraint, I won’t sacrifice big profits for small immediate gains." Cyrus’ narrow eyes scanned past her flushed earlobes, his gaze deepened.
Ann almost burst with anger, her grip on the blanket neither loosening nor tightening, stuck in a dilemma.
So, he’s promising not to touch her now, but it’s really for the future...
Damn!
This man!
"Will you come out yourself or shall I carry you out?" Cyrus seemed to lose patience, staring at her dangerously as she still refused to emerge.
Ann gritted her teeth, knowing if she didn’t comply, he wouldn’t begrudge lifting her out directly.
But her injury is in the leg, not the hand, OK?!
Despite any dissatisfaction, Ann obediently crawled out from the blanket, cheeks flushed with annoyance, glaring fiercely at Cyrus, "Satisfied?!"
Even with her long hair as covering, the striking contrast of its ink-like hue against her flawless skin was visually arresting, making one reluctant to look away.
Perhaps she didn’t realize, but the sense of mystery was even more enticing than a full view could be, stirring the...
Heated beast within.
Cyrus’ eyes deepened, like waves crashing over hidden reefs, making it hard to meet his gaze head-on.
But if he continued, the little one would surely become upset again.
He steadied his breathing and carefully dressed her in the long gown, his fingers occasionally brushing her skin, which was as delicate as white jade, radiating a searing heat of restraint.
For someone as self-controlled as Cyrus, he was near the edge of losing control, let alone Ann, who was acutely aware, feeling feverish and awkward all over.
Who knew if he did it on purpose, taking his time with just a dress.
Ann complained inwardly, feeling her most sensitive area around her waist brushed, almost causing her legs to go weak, and she snapped, "Stop touching randomly!"
"Mm." The man’s voice was hoarse, leisurely answering her.
"Finished?" Once the hem was down, Ann sighed in relief, worrying that things would escalate inevitably... Ugh?!
A warmth suddenly covered her shoulder blades, followed by the sensation of teeth grazing her skin.
Ann shuddered all over, her heartbeat, just calmed, sped up as if attempting to leap out of her chest, "You just promised restraint!"
"Just a bit of interest." The man’s soft laughter came from behind, carrying a danger that made Ann’s scalp tingle, even her shoulders twitched.
The truth was, she was still too naive.
Even without the most direct approach, he had countless ways to leave her crying and begging for mercy...
The deep night, with drizzling rain outside, muted the colors of the world into a dim blur.
The room lingered with a lingering, sultry atmosphere.
Cyrus lowered his head slightly, planting a kiss at the corner of the already asleep Ann’s eye, and traced his thumb over her tear-stained cheek, chuckling softly.
"I’ll let you go this time."
Retribution can wait until later.
With the last word spoken, Cyrus left the bedroom, heading towards the study, instructing the guard in the corridor, "Bring Leo Lowell and Levi Lowell over."
"Yes, Family Head."
Ten minutes later, inside the study.
The man sat behind the study desk, but his overwhelming and suffocating aura overshadowed the upright Locke Brothers with ease.
Opposite, the Locke Brothers were sweating, eyes filled with trepidation, awaiting the final judgment.
Mark Joyce, having rushed back from the border overnight, entered the study and saw the cold sweat on the Locke Brothers, leaving him speechless.
Now afraid, but why didn’t they consider it earlier?
After all, being exalted beyond the border, they had floated so high they forgot who they were.
After entering, Mark Joyce stood two steps behind Cyrus, saying nothing to interrupt.
"Abandoning duty, forgetting one’s place, quite capable, aren’t you?" Cyrus’ lips curved slightly, idly fiddling with the silver pen in his hand.
Leo and Levi were increasingly uneasy, not daring to contradict in the slightest.
Not out of remorse for their mistakes, but... they couldn’t speak at all!