Ann Vaughn felt a dull pain in her temples and didn’t want to bother anymore. She said softly, "If there’s nothing else, Mom, I’ll go upstairs to rest."
"Sister." Cynthia Vaughn saw Ann was about to leave and immediately stood up to hold her hand, coquettishly smiling, "We haven’t seen each other in so long. Let’s sleep together tonight, like when we were kids."
The sharp pain from her arm changed Ann’s expression slightly as she looked at her with eyes as calm as water, "I returned to the Vaughn Family at fifteen. Who was with you when you were a kid? Let go."
Cynthia wouldn’t let go so easily; her nails almost digging into the flesh of Ann’s palm, "Sister, are you still mad at me?"
"I wasn’t upset when you took my place to marry Cyrus in my absence. Why are you still so mad at me?"
Each word was a step into a trap.
Ann couldn’t help but sneer, uninterested in this act, and raised her hand to shake off Cynthia’s hand, who then suddenly fell backward into a nearby vase!
This scene happened too suddenly. As Ann was about to reach out to pull her, a tall and handsome figure flashed before her eyes.
The next moment, before the falling Cynthia could hit the vase, she was caught in Cyrus Hawthorne’s arms.
Ann instantly felt a pang of dread: being seen by a straight-laced man, this misunderstanding just got huge!
The shards of the vase scattered across the floor.
Ann’s hand froze mid-air; before she could retract it, Cyrus angrily swatted it away.
Off balance, Ann fell with a "thud" into the pile of shards.
Sharp fragments cut into the skin of her hands and knees, and the burning pain instantly reddened Ann’s eyes. She shivered violently, biting her lip to keep from crying out. The source of thɪs content is ɴovᴇl(ꜰ)ir(e).nᴇt
Cyrus felt a twinge of regret, letting go of Cynthia and reaching to help Ann, only to have his hand swatted away!
"You brought this on yourself." His icy eyes suddenly froze, soon replaced by indifference and contempt.
Those cold words seemed to freeze Ann’s blood, rendering her face deathly pale.
"Cian, my heart feels really uncomfortable, it hurts..."
Cynthia was gleefully observing Ann’s miserable state, but noticing a twinge of pity on Cyrus’s face, she suddenly changed expressions, clutching her heart and gasping a few times before fainting!
"Cynthia, Cynthia!" Cyrus’s expression changed dramatically, as he bent down to scoop up Cynthia, looking icily at Ann, his tone vicious, "You’d better pray she’s fine!"
That look was like icy spikes of deep winter, piercing Ann’s heart, leaving it bleeding.
"Despicable, to harm your own sister for favor." Laura Quinn mocked coldly, stopping the maid with her gaze from helping Ann.
Ann looked down without speaking, her heart bitter, taking a long time to support herself and painfully make her way back to her room.
Changing her bloodstained clothes, Ann saw the blood on her underwear and frowned, taking a deep breath.
The recent chaos had messed things up so much that her usually healthy body was now experiencing irregular periods.
After applying extracted healing ointment on her wounds, Ann changed her clothes and returned to her room. Unable to sleep, she lay in bed feeling exhausted and cold, her heart filled with sorrow.
Saying she felt nothing would be a lie. She wasn’t unwilling to explain, nor was she unhurt; nobody ever believed what she said.
In their eyes, she was always the scheming, malicious woman who replaced her sister to marry into the Hawthorne Family.
At the same time, in Imperial Capital First Hospital.
Cyrus was leaning against the white wall, a cigarette unlit between his fingers, frustration knit between his brows. Though standing outside Cynthia’s ward, images of Ann’s injured yet stubborn eyes kept crossing his mind.
He wanted to instruct his assistant to take Ann to the hospital, but before he could relay the message after dialing the number, Cynthia’s attending doctor came out of the ward, interrupting him.
"Mr. Hawthorne, Miss Vaughn’s heart condition has worsened, and it can no longer be managed with medication. We must prepare for a heart transplant as soon as her condition improves; otherwise, her body won’t last another year."
"We currently have no matching donor in our hospital for Miss Vaughn’s heart, but more than a year ago, according to her parents, there was a match, seemingly her sister..."
Upon hearing this, Cyrus was surprised and then shouted in anger, "I invest so much money in your hospital every year just to hear this crap?
"How could Ann Vaughn, a living person, undergo heart transplant surgery for Cynthia!"