Chapter 322: Chapter 322: Did She Do Something Wrong?
The taste of that bowl of noodles was very unique, the flavor in the food always carried a hint of the cook’s emotions, and what she tasted was.
Named a separation of death.
Perhaps it was the mood at the time that made her feel that strange sensation.
But thinking about it now, she always felt that the taste of that bowl of noodles was somewhat familiar, as if she had tasted it somewhere else later.
Unable to make sense of it, Ann Vaughn lazily stopped thinking about it. After browsing the forum for a while and replying to some medication requests, she shut down the computer, walked to the door, and locked it from the inside.
Before she could think of a way to completely terminate the MX plan, she could only use the method of self-harm as a temporary delay.
So that Cyrus Hawthorne wouldn’t always want to spread those deadly viruses all over the world.
Why do things that only appear in novels happen in reality?
Ann Vaughn grumbled inwardly while turning on the shower, the moment the cold water hit her, she almost wished to jump out, her whole body started to tremble.
She swore, this was definitely the last time...
Just as this thought arose, Ann Vaughn heard an angry shout coming from the bathroom door.
"What are you doing?!"
Ann Vaughn shuddered in shock, before she could even turn around, a towel was thrown over her, and she was lifted out of the bathroom by a pair of arms.
Ann Vaughn couldn’t help but swallow as she sneakily raised her head to glance at Cyrus Hawthorne. From her angle, she could just see his sexy collarbone and his tightly clenched jaw due to suppressed anger.
Two bolded characters immediately surfaced in her mind.
Done.
Cyrus Hawthorne tucked the cold body in his arms under the quilt, adjusted the room’s air conditioning temperature higher, and then vigorously toweled her still-dripping hair, his lips pressed tightly together.
Recalling the details of Ann Vaughn’s previous fever and illness, then linking them to her worried demeanor during dinner earlier.
There was a common point.
"You pretended to be ill to stop me from initiating the MX plan, didn’t you?" Cyrus Hawthorne paused his toweling, looked down at Ann Vaughn’s pale face from the cold, his gaze sharp.
Ann Vaughn’s neck shrunk back slightly, wanting to avoid his question, but under his gaze, there was nowhere for her to hide.
She pressed her small lips together, and gently nodded.
As expected.
Cyrus Hawthorne’s ink-black eyes suddenly seemed like waves crashing against a dark reef, deep and slightly cold, his lips faintly mocking, "Those few days you clung to me, was that your same motive."
He stated it as a certainty, not a question.
Indicating he had long harbored doubts, questioning her unusual behavior, but had never exposed her, choosing instead to trust.
Feeling this, Ann Vaughn’s heart was a chaotic mix like an overturned palette, indescribably complex.
"I, I just didn’t want you to be in danger because of that plan..."
"So you use hurting yourself as a means to deceive me?" Cyrus Hawthorne spat coldly, his narrow eyes holding a hint of ridicule, "Watching me worry and get mad because of your illness, did that make you happy?"
Ann Vaughn quickly shook her head to deny, "No, I..."
She wanted to say she didn’t do it on purpose, she just wanted to stop him from proceeding with that plan.
But she couldn’t say it aloud, because she had done it deliberately, only then could she temporarily stall for time.
Watching her confused and helpless little face, Cyrus Hawthorne’s chest suddenly felt a bit desolate, he released his grip, stood up, and looked at her coldly, "From the beginning, approaching me was with another purpose."
"Ann Vaughn, in all your actions towards me, how much was genuine, or perhaps, it was fabricated from start to finish."
"You were even willing to exploit your own body to stop me, huh."
After uttering the final word, Cyrus Hawthorne withdrew his gaze coldly and no longer glanced at Ann Vaughn sitting dazedly on the bed, he turned to leave.
Ann Vaughn’s lips parted slightly, her heart racing chaotically, her mind blank, instinctively she reached out and grabbed his sleeve, "I didn’t!"
Those were the only three words she could utter.
Because she knew clearly, from the start, frequenting Cyrus Hawthorne was not only for Kenny’s condition needing umbilical cord blood but also for investigating the virus.
She could find some strong excuses to justify herself, it was very simple.
Yet, she didn’t want to do that anymore.
Ann Vaughn staring blankly at Cyrus Hawthorne’s tall, cold back as he walked farther away, suddenly felt intensely cold.
As if she was thrown into the snowy ground of midwinter, cold from head to toe.
Not long after, the sound of a car engine starting came from outside the window.
Ann Vaughn panicked, didn’t even bother to put on shoes, and ran to the window, only to catch a glimpse of a silver car’s tail disappearing into the night.
He’s gone.
Did she... make a mistake?
Ann Vaughn felt as if all strength had been drained from her body, she slumped softly onto the carpet, hugging her knees, her gaze distractedly staring out the window.
After who knows how long, Ann Vaughn heard a knock on the door.
Just as Ann Vaughn turned her head with joy, she saw Mark Joyce walk in holding a document bag, the light in her eyes instantly extinguished.
"Miss Vaughn, sorry for disturbing you so late." Mark Joyce walked over and apologized.
Ann Vaughn forced a smile on her pale face, suppressing her inner anxiety, then stood up from the floor, "Is there something you need?"
"I heard you’re planning to reopen Vaughn Clinic, so I compiled a planning proposal. If you find it feasible, I’d like to discuss follow-up cooperation with you." Mark Joyce placed the document bag on the table.
Planning proposal?
These four words caught Ann Vaughn’s attention, and she took out the materials inside, examining them one by one.
The more she read, the more intense the seriousness and appreciation grew in her eyes.
"Special Assistant Joyce, with your ability, just being an assistant seems like a waste."
Even she, an outsider, could see how incredibly excellent and top-notch the proposal was, yet it was only for a small, now unknown clinic.
If applied to other matters, it would no doubt better showcase his talents.
Hawthorne Corp. indeed seemed full of hidden talents.
Mark Joyce smiled guiltily, "You’re flattering. Do you think I could use this proposal, to get Hawthorne Corp. to cooperate with you?"
He truly was increasingly baffled by what President Hawthorne intended to do.
He spent an entire night crafting a flawless proposal, yet it had to be presented to Miss Vaughn under his name.
Furthermore, he was instructed to fully assist Ann Vaughn with all tasks associated with reopening the clinic, with no mistakes allowed.
And Miss Vaughn couldn’t know any of this was related to President Hawthorne.
Could it be, the young couple had a fight?
Indeed, Special Assistant Joyce had accidentally stumbled upon the truth.