CHAPTER 94: CHAPTER 94: I WANT ALL OF HER PRENATAL EXAM RECORDS

The ancestral hall of the Hawthorne Family was a place where only those who committed grave mistakes would be locked in, making it the most terrifying place in the entire family.

Not allowing Ann Vaughn any chance to resist or argue, the servants ordered by Laura Quinn shoved her into the hall, and the door immediately shut the next second.

Silence akin to death surrounded her, the light was dim and eerie, with no lamps, just candle flames flickering gently in the wind.

Yet, the surroundings were airtight.

Ann Vaughn instantly felt a chill spreading from her feet to her entire body. She couldn’t help but breathe softly, her whole body tensed up.

With Laura Quinn’s personality, she wouldn’t tolerate anyone defying her, unless Ann agreed to quit school and resign from the program, Laura would never let her out.

However, Ann knew even better that, even if she did as told, Laura would only think it was her duty, and would only become more overbearing in the future.

After all, she was not the ideal daughter-in-law in Laura’s eyes, and this was her original sin.

Ann Vaughn lowered her eyelashes, hiding the dim starlight in her eyes, and sat by the door, hugging her knees, looking somewhat forlorn.

She no longer knew what to do to satisfy everyone.

Meanwhile.

A slender and noble figure stepped down from a black Spyker, and the servants on either side of the Hawthorne Family paused their work to greet.

"Young Master."

Cyrus Hawthorne nodded slightly, then turned to Mark Joyce who was walking behind him and instructed, "Temporarily assign the task of developing new areas of the branch company to someone else; I need you to investigate something for me."

"What does President Hawthorne want to investigate?" Mark Joyce stepped forward immediately, respectfully lending an ear.

"In which hospital was Ann Vaughn’s pregnancy detected? I want all her prenatal examination records."

Miss Vaughn is actually pregnant?!

Mark Joyce was only surprised for a second, though feeling that investigating such a matter seemed a bit inappropriate, he didn’t dare gossip about Cyrus Hawthorne’s private affairs, "Okay, President, I’ll find out as soon as possible."

Cyrus Hawthorne responded faintly and said no more.

Inside the villa.

Laura Quinn had made an appointment with her friends for a beauty treatment the next day and instructed the servants to keep a close eye on Ann Vaughn to ensure she couldn’t sneak out, just as she saw Cyrus walking into the living room.

"Cian, Mom has Mrs. Lynch prepare some soup for you; it’s warming in the kitchen. You work hard, so you need to take care of yourself," Laura Quinn’s gloomy expression disappeared, instantly replaced with a full smile as she walked over, while also instructing Mrs. Lynch to bring out the soup.

Mrs. Lynch hurriedly went to the kitchen.

"Thank you, Mom." Cyrus’s handsome face remained indifferent, and his long, dark eyes held no fluctuation. "You don’t have to worry about such things, I will take good care of myself."

Hearing this, Laura’s eyes flickered, and her face did not look very pleased, "You’re already married, if you still have to worry about these little daily things yourself, I really don’t know what use it is to keep that kind of woman in our Hawthorne Family."

Cyrus lowered his gaze without answering, took a few sips of the soup Mrs. Lynch brought over, then put it back. "Who angered Mom again?"

"Who else?" Laura sneered, "Son, it’s not that Mom is stirring trouble, but look which prestigious family’s daughter-in-law would, like Ann Vaughn, be unable to even produce an egg in half a year, have I ever blamed her for that? Instead, she goes out in public, shaming us!"

In wealthy families, things related to the entertainment industry are often looked down upon, Laura was no exception.

"She appears like an actress on television, being pointed at and gossiped about. She may not feel disgraced, but I certainly find it humiliating! I tolerated her continuing school because your grandpa insisted, but on this matter, you shouldn’t let her have her way!"

Upon hearing this, Cyrus’s thin lips curved slightly, a faint chill and indifference surfaced in his deep eyes, making it indistinguishable, "If you don’t like it, I’ll arrange it, then."

Laura felt reassured by what he said, and her expression improved significantly.

"I’ve had her locked in the ancestral hall. If she’s sensible, she should bow down and repent to me by tomorrow. A woman disturbing the peace of our household is truly a scourge."

Cyrus responded calmly, seemingly not paying much attention to this matter.

At nightfall.

In the early summer of the Imperial Capital, there was still continuous drizzle, with temperatures fluctuating, and the night breeze was as cold as water.

With a soft "creak," the door of the ancestral hall, which had been shut tightly, suddenly opened from the outside.

A poised and noble figure stepped in, carrying the rain and dew from outside, appearing even more aloof.

Cyrus Hawthorne’s narrow eyes swept across, and he spotted Ann Vaughn curled up in the corner by the door.

She hugged her knees, eyes tightly shut, her little face partly hidden by soft black hair, appeared delicate and vulnerable, looking pitiful.

It was just such a girl appearing weak and helpless, yet courageous enough to conceal her pregnancy and even dare to threaten him.

Cyrus squinted, his tongue casually pressing against his cheek, staring at the petite figure for a few seconds before leaning over and lifting her up horizontally.

His cold gaze slowly stopped at Ann Vaughn’s still flat abdomen, his expression instantly took on a dangerous look.

Without staying long in the ancestral hall, Cyrus carried Ann back to the room, tossing her slightly inattentively onto the bed.

Fortunately, the bed was soft; even so, it didn’t wake Ann, showing how soundly she slept.

Cyrus stood by the bedside, his dignified, cold, handsome face showing no expression until, as he looked at Ann’s abdomen, he instinctively placed his palm over it.

Thump, thump.

It was as if something suddenly rushed from his palm straight into his heart, followed by two faint tremor sounds through his blood.

Cyrus’s jade-white fingertips hesitated slightly, a barely noticeable trace of surprise and complexity flashed in his narrow eyes.

Just now was...

At that moment, someone suddenly knocked on the door, Mrs. Lynch’s anxious voice came from outside, "Young Master, Miss Cynthia is crying in the yard and wants to see you. It’s pouring rain, and you see..."

Instantly, any warmth and sentiment within Cyrus’s eyes completely vanished, and withdrawing his hand, he walked out without hesitation.

Shortly after he left, Ann awakened from a nightmare.

At first, she thought she was still in the ancestral hall; to her surprise, when she opened her eyes, she found herself in her room.

Ann Vaughn sat up bewildered, looking around in confusion.

It couldn’t be, did she sleepwalk from the ancestral hall back to this room?

If Laura knew she escaped from the hall, this farce would probably escalate again.

Ann rubbed her cheeks, got up and moved her somewhat numbed limbs, then went to the window to check if there were still servants below, thinking she could sneak away.

Unexpectedly, she saw Cynthia Vaughn’s fragile, white figure standing in the rain.

Ann frowned lightly as she watched the scene, wondering if she was insane, knowing her heart condition, yet treating her body this recklessly. What was she trying to do?

Downstairs, Cynthia Vaughn was rarely unadorned, and her clear, delicate face looked even paler after being drenched in rain, the white dress she wore was soaked through.

Her frail appearance in the rain seemed as if she might faint at any moment.