CHAPTER 23: CHAPTER 23: STOP PRETENDING WHEN YOU’RE SELLING YOURSELF

"President Hawthorne, please have a seat. We’ve heard you enjoy wine, so all the wines tonight have been specially brought from foreign vineyards, ensuring you are the first to enjoy them."

"A few days ago, I acquired some fine antiques, and I wonder if President Hawthorne would be interested in having a look?"

"President Hawthorne..."

The leading man entered the private room like a celestial surrounded by stars. He wore a perfectly tailored, handcrafted designer suit, with deep-set, handsome features and brows and eyes as if painted. He exuded a noble and aloof aura, commanding respect naturally.

Even though he hadn’t given them a glance from the moment they spoke, it didn’t make them feel he was arrogant; rather, it seemed only appropriate.

As CEO of Hawthorne Corp., powerful in The Imperial Capital, he indeed had the capital for such demeanor.

One of the men rubbed his hands with a flattering smile, his eyes restlessly glancing at the silhouette behind the bamboo curtain, speaking to Cyrus Hawthorne, "President Hawthorne, these fine wines and antiques can’t compare to the gift I have for you tonight."

The bamboo curtain was just the right distance from their seats, with music surrounding them. Ann Vaughn was focused on playing the piano and thus hadn’t noticed the presence of the person she least wanted to see in the room.

As soon as the piece ended, Ann Vaughn was about to switch to another song when a guest suddenly said, "Miss, you’ve been playing for a while, why not take a break and join us for a drink?"

Upon hearing this, Ann Vaughn frowned. In Aurelia, each position had clear responsibilities, and playing music every night was her job, which did not include drinking with guests or anything else. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have chosen Aurelia.

"If the guest wants a drink, please ask a hostess. I am just a performer and cannot accompany."

That person, of course, knew the rules of Aurelia, but he had been observing Ann Vaughn for quite some days. This fresh and elegant flower, even amongst beauties like clouds in Aurelia, was captivating with just one look.

If he let such a rare beauty go, who knows when he’d next have the opportunity to connect with President Hawthorne?

Pleasing President Hawthorne was the most important thing. Would Aurelia really oppose him over a woman like her?

Ann Vaughn originally thought her firm refusal would suffice, but as she was about to continue playing, she was suddenly dragged out from behind the bamboo curtain!

"What’s with the act of chastity? Go toast President Hawthorne!" The man roughly cursed, pushing Ann Vaughn towards the glass table.

Ann Vaughn was flung directly towards the pile of wine bottles. She hurriedly protected her abdomen with her left hand to avoid hitting the sharp edge of the glass table, but her right elbow was scraped and hurt painfully.

She gritted her teeth, just raised her head and unexpectedly met a familiar pair of dark eyes.

In that instant of eye contact, a hint of surprise flashed in those dark eyes, which quickly turned into an icy surface like a winter lake, freezing cold, making it impossible to look directly.

Why is he here?!

Ann Vaughn suddenly froze, her eyes widening in disbelief, her mind went blank.

"President Hawthorne, not only does this young lady have extraordinary talents, but her looks are also top-notch. What do you think?" The man kept speaking flatteringly, completely unaware of Cyrus Hawthorne’s changed expression or the inappropriateness of the situation.

In the circle, everyone knew President Hawthorne’s wife was just a figurehead, hanging out with a bunch of lowlifes since high school, infamous and notorious.

For the Hawthorne Family to cast aside such an insignificant woman was just a matter of mood and time.

Otherwise, how could President Hawthorne possibly be interested in such a woman?

So he planned to offer this rare flower to please the mighty figure of President Hawthorne.

Seeing Ann Vaughn dazed there, the man immediately pushed her again, "What are you standing there for? Toasting President Hawthorne is an honor, do you not want this job anymore?"

Ann Vaughn slowly returned to her senses, biting her lip as she looked at Cyrus Hawthorne sitting on the sofa, looking down at her with a half-smile, her heart pounding.

This job wasn’t something unspeakable, but in his eyes, those working in such a place were surely not respectable.