Mr. Hawthorne, Your Wife Wants a Divorce Again-Chapter 1070: Until We Meet Again

The atmosphere in the living room was heavy.

"Are you sure they buried bombs around the house?" Ann Vaughn quickly glanced outside the window, then immediately drew the curtains to avoid being spotted by those outside.

Recalling the scene she had just witnessed, her heart sank to the depths.

Good job, Second Prince.

Afraid that Warren Vance might escape, he plans to blow him up and end it once and for all.

Such ruthless decisiveness.

"Yes." Warren Vance’s face still looked sickly, but his demeanor was somewhat nonchalant. "Having finally caught an opportunity to put me to death, he won’t let it slip easily."

Burying bombs is nothing.

If he weren’t wary of causing too much commotion and arousing suspicion, Lucas Vance would do something even more extreme.

Ann Vaughn frowned as she tidied up the medications on the sofa, saying to Warren Vance, "The most important thing is to leave here quickly before they attack."

Unexpectedly, Warren Vance didn’t reply immediately.

Ann Vaughn suddenly realized something and looked up at him, "Could it be that... you can’t teleport anymore?"

"Barring any surprises, not for the next two years." Warren Vance blinked, an innocent look on his pale face.

Teleportation isn’t an innate ability of vampires but something Warren Vance learned and mastered using his natural advantages, so it comes with certain limitations.

More importantly, on Ann Vaughn’s body...

A strange light flashed in Warren Vance’s eyes as he looked at Ann Vaughn’s profile, frowning.

How does she have the scent of The Bloodhunters on her?

Hearing Warren Vance’s words, Ann Vaughn’s eyebrows furrowed tighter. Since they couldn’t flee, they could only hope to negotiate with Lucas Vance and see if they could find a breakthrough to escape.

Just as Ann Vaughn was about to speak, Warren Vance suddenly changed his gaze from smiling to serious, swiftly rolling with her to the side to dodge a bullet smashing through the window!

Thud—

The bullet pierced through the leather sofa, leaving only a small hole. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

Ann Vaughn glanced, shocked, feeling a chill run down her spine.

The hole was positioned slightly high; if they hadn’t dodged in time, the bullet might have gone right through her head!

"They buried bombs, so why are they shooting?" Ann Vaughn broke out in cold sweat.

Warren Vance’s eyes turned cold and sharp in an instant, but his voice betrayed no emotion, "They’re testing if I still have any mobility."

Lucas Vance hadn’t detonated the bombs, possibly fearing something.

It certainly wasn’t him; that leaves only... Ann Vaughn.

Warren Vance lowered his eyes slightly, looking at Ann Vaughn’s tense face, and actually laughed.

Then he asked, word by word, "Annie, live or die, would you be willing to die with me?"

Ann Vaughn was taken aback, then said without hesitation, "In this life, there’s only one person I’d die with."

Her heart was too small, and it could only hold one person.

"Then I take it as a yes." Ignoring her refusal, Warren Vance cherished a kiss on her cheek, his voice gentle, "We’ll meet again in the future."

With the last word he said, Ann Vaughn felt the strong sensation of being pulled return, her head spinning, making her stomach churn.

The gentle face of Warren Vance in her vision grew increasingly blurry, and Ann Vaughn’s sight turned black as she completely lost consciousness.

Warren Vance’s hands were half-raised, still in the position of protecting Ann Vaughn as they fell, yet his embrace was already empty.

For a long while, the sound of the front door being heavily smashed open echoed.

Warren Vance got up, took the pair of white gloves from the table, and slowly put them on.

Lucas Vance barged into the living room with his men, only to see Warren Vance standing there, his uniform stained with blood but looking perfectly fine, as he gracefully performed a perfect courtly gesture with his left hand lightly placed on his shoulder.

Seeing this, Lucas Vance’s eyelids twitched, a very bad premonition surfacing in his mind, "Warren, you..."

"Brother," Warren Vance’s lips curved slightly, as if countless pure black thorny roses bloomed behind him in an instant, enchanting and deadly, he said softly, "I’ve been waiting for you for quite some time."

...

The endless darkness slowly faded, finally casting Ann Vaughn back onto the surface, allowing her to gasp for air.

She held her heavy head as she sat up, her vision filled with twisted and blurred lights and shadows, unable to see anything clearly. She could only rely on the memory in her mind to stagger outside.

Just as she reached the door, Ann Vaughn bumped into a hard ice wall, and then her wrist was suddenly seized with great force.

"Annie?!"

The familiar voice cleared Ann Vaughn’s hazy mind for a moment. She looked up to see the familiar face colored with surprise, almost making her nose tingle with tears.

"Cyrus, I thought I would never see you again—"

Cyrus Hawthorne’s Adam’s apple rolled, pressing down the irritation and anger in his heart, tightly embracing Ann Vaughn’s trembling body, saying not a word.

At this moment, any words would seem pale and powerless.

Only companionship never goes out of style.

After saying that, Ann Vaughn fainted in Cyrus Hawthorne’s arms, unconscious.

Breeze, who had just left 8th Street not long ago, was called back to examine Ann Vaughn.

"Uncle Silas Lowell, how is my mommy?" Kenny held Ann Vaughn’s hand tightly, asking nervously.

"Sudden fainting due to excessive fatigue, accompanied by a fever. We should first see if she improves after taking some medicine." Breeze withdrew his hand and said, "This is the first time I’ve seen such a condition. If she weren’t fundamentally strong, she might not have just fainted but fallen into shock on the spot."

If it weren’t for Cyrus Hawthorne’s apparent concern for Ann Vaughn, Breeze might have suspected him of mistreating her, causing her health to deteriorate like this.

Cyrus Hawthorne’s lips tightened, his hands suddenly clenched into fists, then he asked seriously, "Will this leave any aftereffects on her body?"

"We’ll have to wait until she wakes up to determine that. If her recovery is well-managed, there should be no harm to her body."

"Go prepare the medicine."

Breeze seemed to want to say more but refrained, realizing it wasn’t the right time, and then left.

Cyrus Hawthorne shifted his gaze to Little Dumpling, saying, "Kenny, you should go out first."

"Kenny wants to stay with mommy." Little Dumpling pursed his lips, holding Ann Vaughn’s hand tightly, his eyes red, "What if mommy disappears again suddenly..."

"Your mommy has sweated a lot. If she sleeps like this, she’ll be uncomfortable." Cyrus gently rubbed his little head, his expression soft, "Do you want mommy to be uncomfortable, Kenny?"

Little Dumpling shook his head quickly, reluctantly letting go of Ann Vaughn’s hand, hopping down from the bed.

"Then... Dad, remember to call me later."

"Alright."

After Kenny left, Cyrus Hawthorne carried Ann Vaughn into the bathroom, removing the nightgown stained with blood.

After checking and confirming Ann Vaughn wasn’t injured, realizing the blood might belong to someone else, Cyrus Hawthorne exhaled slowly.