Mr. Hawthorne, Your Wife Wants a Divorce Again-Chapter 990: Cyrus Hawthorne, I’m Sorry

Half an hour later, Breeze emerged from the guest room, looking dazed. When he came to the adjacent room and saw the man sitting at the bar, whose mere silhouette exuded a chilly aura, he instantly became sober.

On the computer next to the man, surveillance footage from the guest room was being synchronized and played.

Breeze glanced at the screen, hesitated, and then stepped forward to ask in a low voice, "Mr. Hawthorne, you must have heard what Ryan Wyatt just said, right?"

"Not bad." Cyrus Hawthorne’s voice was cold, his praise felt like a mid-winter freeze, chilling anyone who heard it to the bone.

"Does what you said before... still hold?" Breeze cautiously probed.

"Yes."

Only then did Breeze breathe a sigh of relief. His efforts in outwitting and extracting words from the suspicious Ryan Wyatt hadn’t been in vain.

Although the information he labored to obtain sounded absurd, fortunately, Cyrus Hawthorne was not intending to go back on his word.

"Mr. Hawthorne," recalling the conversation earlier, Breeze hesitated for two seconds before speaking, "Although Ryan Wyatt seems unreliable, he was as trusted by Warren Vance as I was. He may sound ludicrous, but there’s a high chance he’s telling the truth."

Cyrus Hawthorne tapped his long fingers lightly on the table, "So?"

"When I was still in The Royal City, many talented individuals surrounded Warren Vance, and Ryan was just one of them. I didn’t have much contact with them, but among them, there were indeed people skilled in witchcraft curses."

Breeze paused and then continued, "The vermillion mark at Miss Vaughn’s eye corner is very likely caused by witchcraft, but Ryan refuses to disclose the name of the person responsible."

It’s evident that he wanted to reserve an opportunity for negotiation with Cyrus Hawthorne in the future.

Cyrus Hawthorne squinted his sharp eyes, asking in a deep voice, "Is that mark harmful to the body?"

"No," Breeze shook his head, "It’s just that if the mark spreads across the whole face, it would look almost disfiguring."

He only had a vague understanding from Ryan’s accounts and had never seen it firsthand, but even imagining it felt terrifying.

It was unclear whether Warren Vance loved Ann Vaughn more or if hatred born of love eventually prevailed.

He actually used such a vicious method to bind her.

If Ann Vaughn’s face were ruined, would Cyrus Hawthorne still adore her as he did before?

Warren Vance seized on this point, trying to force Ann Vaughn back to his side...

"Ah!"

A sudden scream of terror erupted from the computer’s surveillance.

Cyrus Hawthorne abruptly stood up and strode out.

Breeze touched his ear, glanced at the computer, and, forgetting any gossip, quickly followed suit.

If something happened to Ann Vaughn, he’d never get back to his brother!

Luckily, the room’s soundproofing was good; the scream didn’t reach anyone else’s ears.

Cyrus Hawthorne strode into the guest room, his sharp gaze quickly locating Ann Vaughn cowering in the corner of the bed.

She was awake, but for some reason, she was clutching her head fiercely, shivering as if she were unbearably cold. Knowing the wall was behind her, she still kept shrinking back, as if fleeing from something.

Getting closer, he found her face wet with tears, yet her eyes were like empty white voids—numb and bewildered, devoid of starlight.

Cyrus Hawthorne’s eyes darkened sharply, and he quickly walked to her, intending to embrace her. But she screamed and recoiled like a frightened animal.

"Don’t come near, don’t come near!"

"Alright, I won’t come," Cyrus Hawthorne furrowed his brows, keeping his voice soft to avoid scaring her, "Don’t be afraid. I’m right here."

But at that moment, Ann Vaughn could not hear his voice.

She couldn’t even hear what she was saying.

She only felt a sharp, intense pain starting from her head spreading through every cell in her body, finally converging fiercely at her heart.

Even breathing felt like stabbing pain.

She wanted to stop this torment that seemed endless, but she didn’t know how to rescue herself.

No, it wasn’t herself she wanted to save.

"I’m sorry, I’m sorry..." Ann Vaughn’s teeth bit through her lips, and her choked voice was so broken that if you didn’t listen carefully, you wouldn’t even hear her speak.

Cyrus Hawthorne’s hearing was excellent, easily piecing together a complete sentence from her fragmented sobs.

She was apologizing.

"Cyrus Hawthorne, I’m sorry."

Cyrus Hawthorne’s pupils constricted, his hand frozen mid-air clenched tight, the veins on the back of his hand slightly protruding from the exertion.

His suspicions ultimately proved true.

Ann Vaughn felt guilty and tormented for shooting and injuring him, even going so far as to punish herself.

She had forgotten her past memories, except for the incident of shooting him, which she couldn’t let go. The despair at that time seeped into her bones like poison.

Night after night, it was agonizing.

He should have realized sooner that her dependence on sleeping pills was due to the overwhelming pain she couldn’t bear.

Yet this was only the tip of the iceberg that he could see, how else did she punish herself in ways he couldn’t see?

Cyrus Hawthorne tightly pressed his lips together, and after a long pause, he extended his arms, embracing Ann Vaughn, who was screaming and trying to escape, holding her firmly despite her struggles and kicks, never loosening his grip for a moment.

"Silly girl, you’ve never wronged me. If it weren’t for you, I might have faced dire consequences that day." 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

"You saved me, don’t you remember?"

He gently stroked her hair as he always did, his voice as soft as a spring night breeze, flowing into Ann Vaughn’s heart, bringing the first sign of life to the wildfire-scorched barren land.

Ann Vaughn’s struggles subtly diminished, but her tears, sliding down the corners of her eyes, flowed even more profusely.

Cyrus Hawthorne knew she heard him, and held her even tighter.

"You once said you wished to settle in Marinia. A month ago, the new district was completed, and I have prepared a home there for you. Once you’re better, we’ll move there, so you can see your family every day, alright?"

"The rare herbs you love, I searched extensively during my recent trip abroad and found many. When they arrive, we can plant them together in our garden, okay?"

"From now on, I’ll do what you like with you, go wherever you want with you, okay?"

Finally, Cyrus Hawthorne leaned his head against Ann Vaughn’s shoulder, his voice deep and hoarse.

"How long has it been since I heard you call me Quinn?"

Being forgotten was such a torment.

Upon hearing his last words, Ann Vaughn’s shoulders trembled, her tiny hands pushing against him suddenly lost all strength and drooped down.

The intense pain ravaging her heart retreated like the tide, vanishing in an instant.