Mr. Hawthorne, Your Wife Wants a Divorce Again-Chapter 1001: A Kiss with No Strings Attached
"In this respect, she’s just like your mommy used to be." Eli Sheridan lowered his eyes and chuckled, "Whenever she encountered a problem she couldn’t solve, she’d immerse herself in work to numb herself."
It’s just unknown whether Cyrus Hawthorne is the same.
In the corner, a shadow leaned against the wall, quietly taking in their conversation.
After a long time, it quietly departed.
...
The moon hung on the willow tips, and the night grew deeper.
As the clear water in the silver basin got stained red once more, a faint smell of blood wafted out, slightly sharp.
Dr. Silas Lowell carefully stitched up the wound on Ann Vaughn’s right hand, sprinkled a thick layer of medicinal powder, and after the powder dried somewhat, he pressed her hand into another clean silver basin.
"You’re in luck. The wound stitched with Dragon Gut Thread doesn’t need to be removed after healing, won’t scar, and even has regenerative effects." Breeze poured the medicine into the basin as he spoke, "I’ve treasured it for nearly ten years, always reluctant to use it, and you’ve benefited from it."
Ann Vaughn’s face was pale as snow, her smooth forehead was sweating, and droplets trickled down her cheeks, dampening her neckline and long hair.
Hearing Breeze’s voice, Ann Vaughn’s unfocused eyes regained a trace of clarity, and her tightly clenched teeth slowly relaxed, filling her mouth with a metallic taste.
Only then did she belatedly realize that this long ordeal had finally ended.
Ann Vaughn exhaled, forcing a smile, and said, "Thank you, Dr. Silas Lowell."
"You don’t need to thank me, I’m just doing someone else’s bidding. Also, your hand needs to stay soaked in this medicine overnight for the damaged veins to fully recover. How it will turn out depends on tonight."
Breeze tidied up the items on the table, picked up the medical kit and stood up, glanced at Ann Vaughn’s pain-endured pale face, and shook his head slightly.
"You two are quite a match."
To endure such pain without a sound and remain conscious, truly a pair to be reckoned with.
Breeze tutted and left the room.
Ann Vaughn was stunned for a moment; what did he mean by that last remark?
...
Downstairs, after sending off Breeze, Eli Sheridan received a call from Stanley Sheridan.
"Dad, I was just about to call you, Annie and Wilder..."
"Let Lucy Lock go." Stanley Sheridan’s voice interrupted before Eli Sheridan could finish, and he sounded inexplicably weary.
Eli Sheridan’s smile gradually faded, and he squinted slightly, "You know perfectly well what Lucy Lock did to Annie and Wilder, don’t you?"
Stanley Sheridan was silent for a moment, "I know. But Lucy Lock..."
"Perhaps you’ve forgotten," Eli Sheridan’s voice remained gentle, "when Wilder and I were kidnapped by Lucy Lock as kids, thrown into the wilderness nearly to be eaten by wild animals, that beast even bit a chunk off Wilder’s leg."
"Then, when we were rescued, the first thing you said was an apology, asking not to hold Lucy Lock accountable."
"Since then, I’ve suspected that Lucy Lock holds something important over you, forcing you to compromise with her repeatedly. So no matter how excessive her past actions were, I endured them."
Eli Sheridan matured early, always thinking more than the average child.
Perhaps Wilder was easily placated with a few words or toys from Stanley Sheridan, but not him.
Not only that, but he remembered every harm Lucy Lock had ever caused Wilder, keeping peace for Stanley Sheridan’s sake, just tolerating it for now.
But what did his tolerance get him?
Stanley Sheridan let out a long sigh, "Since you already know, let it go, don’t pursue this matter any further."
"Chairman Sheridan, since our views differ and we can’t reach consensus, then let each of us act on our own devices." Eli Sheridan’s voice turned completely cold as he finished and hung up the phone.
All Eli Sheridan wanted by saying so much was to hear Stanley Sheridan personally state that reason.
But once again, he was disappointed.
"Uncle," suddenly, Kenny peeked out from the doorway, eyeing Eli Sheridan and asked, "Is Uncle going to release Lucy Lock?"
Eli Sheridan put away his phone, ruffled Kenny’s hair, "Of course not."
"Then what about Grandpa..."
"Uncle just said, each act on their own devices. If your Grandpa can pull Lucy Lock from the patrol bureau where your daddy stationed her, Uncle has nothing more to say." Eli Sheridan’s lips lifted slightly, smiling freely.
Little Dumpling’s eyes sparkled brightly, oh, he couldn’t believe his noble Uncle actually had such a cunning side!
Just like when he was up to mischief with his mommy!
...
Late the next night.
On the terrace, a tall figure tread softly through the moonlight, deftly pushed open the French windows, and entered the room.
On the large bed, Ann Vaughn lay amidst the soft blankets, her right hand wrapped like a dumpling placed at her side, her head turned to one side, deeply asleep.
Last night, unable to wait till dawn, she fell into a slumber, fortunately keeping her hand soaked in the medicinal concoction, preventing any prior efforts from being wasted.
Finally, when the soaking time concluded, Ann Vaughn managed to get a proper night’s sleep.
Thus, even as someone intruded into her room, she remained unaware.
The man approached the bed, his gaze dropping on Ann Vaughn’s still-pale face, frowning slightly, touching her cheek lightly with his left hand.
His fingertips were extraordinarily cold, devoid of warmth.
"Mmm." Ann Vaughn, displeased at having her sweet dreams disturbed, puckered her fine brows, her cheek brushing against his fingers, then turned her head the other way.
Cyrus Hawthorne’s thin lips curled slightly, and then he leaned down to plant a kiss on her slightly pouting lips.
As he was about to leave, Ann Vaughn, deeply asleep, suddenly parted her lips, biting hard on Cyrus Hawthorne’s.
Cyrus Hawthorne lifted his gaze, only to see her eyes still closed, a hint of amusement flashing in his eyes.
"Anyway, since it’s...in a dream..." Ann Vaughn sleep-talked unconsciously, "Kissed you...don’t have to be responsible..."
Understandably, someone’s expression turned black in an instant.
Kissed but not wanting to be responsible?
How could things be so good?
Cyrus Hawthorne raised his hand, tugged at his collar, and the gaze that fell on Ann Vaughn’s face grew increasingly dangerous.
Unaware in her sleep, Ann Vaughn’s lips, kissed red, moved slightly, like savoring some delectable treat.
Yet she still didn’t know she had become the delicacy in another’s eyes.
...
Ann Vaughn had an uncontrollable dream.
Logically, it was her dream, and she could control it with a single thought at any moment.
However, when James Vaughn in the dream seized her completely, she failed to steer the dream’s course.
What’s more, upon waking, she felt sore all over, as if her amorous dream had come true...
