CHAPTER 108: CHAPTER 108: WIFE

Just watching the interaction between the two, it seemed she caught a whiff of some ambiguous sense of intimacy.

"President Hawthorne, who might this be to you?" Juliana Jacobs asked out of curiosity about Ann Vaughn’s identity.

"Wife."

Those two simple words left Juliana Jacobs stunned, never expecting the famed Mrs. Hawthorne to be such a pretty and delicate girl.

The rumors outside had almost completely blackened the image of "Mrs. Hawthorne."

Back then, Juliana Jacobs had received the wedding invitation but couldn’t attend due to her daughter’s illness, so she had never seen the real "Mrs. Hawthorne."

Juliana’s assistant was even more stunned, recalling what Ann Vaughn had said in the elevator and couldn’t help but speak up.

Cyrus Hawthorne’s gaze shifted slightly to Juliana Jacobs, his narrow eyes squinting slightly, "If she said it, you’d best get a detailed check-up."

This indirectly confirmed Ann’s ability.

Even Juliana Jacobs was taken aback, the same advice coming from Cyrus Hawthorne held a different weight.

Moreover, she didn’t think the Young Madam of Hawthorne Group would have any reason to deceive her with such words.

Juliana Jacobs dared not delay any longer, forgetting about the termination, she and her assistant left the president’s office and immediately called her private doctor.

Downstairs in the restaurant.

Ann Vaughn prepared three dishes and a soup. The soup was mushroom soup, to which she had added two drops of Dragon Flame Grass essence.

The rich aroma intensely filled the restaurant, not only remaining unmatched by other dishes’ scents, but its unique fragrance gave a refreshing and distinctive feeling.

"What dish smells so good? Can I get a portion?" An employee couldn’t help but ask the chef.

"That’s the president’s exclusive meal. You might dare eat it, but we wouldn’t dare serve it to you," the chef shrugged.

Upon hearing this, the group immediately gave up their thoughts.

If they couldn’t eat it, couldn’t they at least smell more of it?

What in the world could smell so divine?

When Cyrus Hawthorne and Mark Joyce came out of the elevator, they were greeted with faces full of awe directed at the kitchen.

"Good afternoon, President!"

The staff stopped to greet, and Cyrus merely nodded indifferently, walking with a steady pace towards his seat.

However, Mark Joyce subtly noticed these people looking at President Hawthorne with a tinge of unknown envy.

At this moment, Ann Vaughn saw Cyrus Hawthorne enter the restaurant and brought over her and his lunch.

The people in the restaurant followed the enticing aroma, unable to take their eyes off her tray.

"I’d better eat somewhere else." Ann Vaughn felt somewhat overwhelmed by the gazes from all directions, thinking it was because she was sharing a frame with Cyrus Hawthorne.

She stood up with her tray, intending to switch seats.

But who knew, her wrist was gently grasped by Cyrus Hawthorne’s single hand, lightly but she couldn’t shake it off.

"Sit down." Cyrus Hawthorne said coolly, his refined brows slightly furrowing, casting a glance at those peeking heads.

His icy gaze, seemingly palpable, caused them to quickly retreat.

Ann Vaughn had no choice but to sit down and opened the lid of her bowl.

Inside was crispy pork ribs over rice. Though not as overpowering as Cyrus’s mushroom soup with Dragon Flame Grass, it certainly looked appetizing.

Cyrus Hawthorne, having received family etiquette training since childhood, was accustomed to eating without a sound, each move elegant and pleasing to the eye.

Yet when he looked up, he saw Ann Vaughn’s cheeks slightly puffed as she delightedly stuffed food into her mouth, eating fast but not rudely, exuding an indescribable cuteness.

Unlike other girls who ate daintily to maintain their figure, she didn’t care at all about such things.

Just watching her, his own appetite seemed to increase a bit.

Cyrus then thought of her pregnancy, narrowing his eyes, and suggested, "If it’s not enough, I can share some of mine."

Only worried she might eat too little and starve the baby.

Ann chewed her rice slowly, her eyes brightening at his words, and she didn’t hesitate to pick a few eggplants into her bowl with the serving chopsticks.

"You must finish the mushroom soup; the herbs in it are very precious."

"How much Dragon Flame Grass have you taken?" Cyrus Hawthorne looked at her with a seemingly smiling gaze.

"Cough, cough!" Ann Vaughn choked on his words, her face slightly guilty as she glanced at the mushroom soup, "How did you know?"

Cyrus looked at her with an unreadable expression for a few seconds before speaking slowly, "Those Dragon Flame Grass were transported by helicopter from foreign mountains."

Besides, only that plot of soil at the estate was suitable for Dragon Flame Grass growth, so he left them alone.

Little did he know they all ended up in Ann’s culinary experiments.

Ann Vaughn, "..."

So she hadn’t just picked a few herbs, but rather plucked the tiger’s whiskers??

-

In the ward at First Hospital.

Cynthia Vaughn tidied her hair in the mirror, then applied white lipstick to look more tragically pitiful, and only then did she satisfyingly pick up the phone.

Just then, a few messages came through.

They were from her friends at Hawthorne Corp., pictures of the group’s restaurant.

Cynthia’s face showed annoyance as she clicked open to look, and the next second, her entire body froze.

Thud—

The phone hit the hospital room door with a dull thud.

Cynthia Vaughn was so distressed her chest heaved, her face showing an ugly expression.

She couldn’t listen to Irwin’s words waiting for the perfect timing any longer. If she kept waiting, Ann Vaughn would soon completely take over everything that belonged to her!

With that thought, Cynthia Vaughn threw off the quilt and got out of bed, running out without even putting on shoes.

On the other side.

Cyrus Hawthorne had an important business negotiation in the afternoon and couldn’t take Ann Vaughn, so he arranged for someone to send her back to the estate first.

Before that, he also had Mark Joyce bring the dinner menu for her to decide what to cook.

Her rice bowl dish was notably marked as a focal item.

.... Was he really treating her like a personal chef?

Ann internally grumbled but still called Auntie Golding to prepare some ingredients. Just as she hung up, Cynthia Vaughn’s call came in.

Frowning, she hesitated for a few seconds; picking up just as she was about to speak, the other end abruptly hung up.

"Nothing better to do..." Ann looked at her phone, lips quirking. Was Cynthia using her for amusement?

She didn’t dwell on it, and under Cyrus Hawthorne’s escort, she returned to the villa. By then, Auntie Golding had vacated the kitchen for her.

Ann simply couldn’t figure out why Cyrus Hawthorne suddenly wanted to eat the rice bowl dish.

The records left by those food therapists didn’t mention Cyrus Hawthorne liking rice bowl dishes. Not only that, they specifically noted that Cyrus Hawthorne didn’t like such fast-food-type meals.