Mr. Hawthorne, Your Wife Wants a Divorce Again-Chapter 845: They Started Fighting

The four people were hiding behind the curtain in a bizarre posture... eavesdropping.

"Ahem, the butler mentioned it’s time to replace this curtain; we came to see what pattern might be suitable," Old Mrs. Sheridan adjusted her clothes and said warmly, "You and Annie take your time chatting, there’s no rush to return."

With that, she stretched out her hand and led the father and sons away together.

Stanley Sheridan frowned, and his already stern face looked even gloomier, "You all heard Sweetie praise you endlessly, and yet I haven’t heard a single word!"

As he spoke, he eagerly looked in Cyrus Hawthorne’s direction, with ears pricked up.

As if urging, "You might as well raise your voice a bit more!"

"Give it a rest, and think about how you’ve treated Sweetie before. Now you want to hear her praise you? You should be glad you’re not getting scolded!" Old Mrs. Sheridan unceremoniously retorted.

Stanley Sheridan: "..." Do I stop being your son just because I’ve grown up?

The two brothers beside him weren’t as downcast as their dear father; their footsteps were light as they walked downstairs.

"No one has ever praised me for being sensitive and considerate before." Wilder Sheridan scratched his head, "But how did Sis figure out that I like racing but had to give it up?"

He had only taken her racing once, and that was to deliberately scare her. He hadn’t even mentioned anything related to racing to her usually.

Except for Elliot, no one knew how much he loved racing, loved it enough to disregard everything.

The only thing he couldn’t give up was family.

Elliot calmly twirled the Buddha beads, "Your sister says you’re sensitive, and isn’t she as well? Even though the time spent together wasn’t long, she’s already figured out the temperament of each of us."

Amidst his excitement, Wilder gave his brother a puzzled look, "Brother, why are you so calm? Sis just praised you with such a long sentence."

"Mm." Elliot coolly turned his face away, his black hair hiding his reddened ear tips, "Fourteen words less than yours."

Wilder: "???" Are you serious?

How did he never realize his brother was so petty?

Where did the generosity that threw money on an antique collectible go??

Over there, Ann Vaughn wasn’t aware that her whispered conversation with Cyrus Hawthorne had been overheard.

"You freshen up and have breakfast first; we can talk when we meet later." Cyrus Hawthorne withdrew his gaze and spoke unhurriedly to Ann Vaughn.

"...How did you even know that?" Ann Vaughn murmured, lowering her head, "You really didn’t install a surveillance on me?"

"Hmm?"

"Nothing! I’ll hang up now and come find you soon!"

Ann Vaughn swiftly freshened up and then went downstairs.

The Vaughn family was seated around the dining table waiting for her, and Little Dumpling was obediently nestled in Old Mrs. Vaughn’s arms, occasionally rubbing his eyes, clearly up to some mischief last night.

"...Sweetie has now been acknowledged back by the Sheridans, and will definitely have to live over there in the future. But what should we do if we miss her? Ian, you have to talk to them; how can they just monopolize Sweetie?" Old Mrs. Vaughn said anxiously.

"I reckon Eli wanted to move Sweetie back to the Sheridan’s. If I hadn’t mentioned how far it is and worried it would tire Sweetie, believe it or not, that kid would have moved Sweetie’s and Kenny’s luggage over there immediately."

Recalling the situation this morning, Old Master Vaughn couldn’t help but snort repeatedly.

Ian Vaughn and Eli Sheridan usually got along well, and have cooperated smoothly this time upon returning to The Imperial Capital.

But now, all that’s left is some fickle uncle-nephew affection.

"Everything has its order; the Sheridan family was a step late, so for Sweetie to move back, Stanley wouldn’t know how to ask for it. We’ll just play dumb."

The two elders instantly gave him a thumbs up; the young ginger will always outshine the old spice.

Little Dumpling nestled in their arms sleepily thought: Who am I, and where’s mommy?

After breakfast, Ann Vaughn told the elders, then took Little Dumpling and headed out.

Sherwood Manor.

Ann Vaughn and Kenny were still a step late.

"Wilder isn’t convinced by him and swears if he wants to marry you, he’ll have to pass him first." Eli Sheridan had already bathed and changed into fresh clothes. Seeing Ann Vaughn’s bewildered expression, he couldn’t help but pat her head gently.

Then, bending down, he greeted the little Kenny clinging to Ann Vaughn’s leg warmly, "Good morning, Little J.B."

"Good morning, Uncle," Little Dumpling said in a childish voice, mentally giving a thumbs up to his little uncle, Wilder Sheridan.

The Archfiend wants to marry his mommy; it won’t be that easy.

"...So they’re fighting?" Ann Vaughn recalled Cyrus Hawthorne’s skills and silently mourned for Wilder for two seconds, "I’m pretty good at bone-setting."

Eli Sheridan chuckled, "Wilder didn’t fight him; they went racing."

Racing?!

Ann Vaughn suddenly realized that in the case of racing, it was really hard to say who would win.

She didn’t know if Cyrus Hawthorne was any good at racing, but that brat’s racing skills were undisputed.

At least, he was the top amongst all the racers she had seen.

...Wait a minute.

Ann Vaughn sensed something was amiss and asked, "Brother, you don’t mean someone actually fought with Quinn, do you?"

"I did," Eli Sheridan raised an eyebrow and confessed openly.

Ann Vaughn: !!!

"Well, then you guys..."

Guessing what she wanted to ask, Eli Sheridan smiled, "A draw. The man you fancy may appear gentle and suave, but when fighting he’s quick, ruthless, and precise. Every move lethal yet measured—a rare talent."

Although it was just a competition, both parties’ fighting spirits were fully aroused, inevitably leading to some accidental injuries.

But even so, this well-matched contest was the most gratifying battle Eli Sheridan had fought in a long time.

Ann Vaughn knew Eli Sheridan had been practicing martial arts from a young age, having won the National Martial Arts Competition’s youth division championship in both high school and college, his capabilities not to be underestimated.

It was called a draw, but perhaps they had mutually yielded to some extent.

Moreover, it was hard for Ann Vaughn to imagine her gentle and composed brother in a fight.

"Brother, why did you learn martial arts?" Ann Vaughn asked curiously.

Just as the question was asked, Uncle Vance shouted from the staircase, "Young Master, Miss, Little One, they’re back!"

Ann Vaughn immediately forgot about her earlier question and placed Little Dumpling’s chubby hand into Eli Sheridan’s, "Brother, please look after Kenny for me, I’m going down to check!"

To avoid Little Dumpling from seeing a scene that might be too "brutal", Ann Vaughn didn’t take him along.

Little Dumpling leaned against Eli Sheridan’s long legs, tilting his little head up, repeating his mommy’s previous question, "Uncle, why did you learn martial arts?"

Eli Sheridan smiled, his face softened with that smile.

"Because there are people I want to protect."

"Uncle, is the person you want to protect my mommy?" Little Dumpling asked, tilting his head.