CHAPTER 109: CHAPTER 109: CYRUS HAWTHORNE, DO YOU REALLY HATE ME THAT MUCH?

Cynthia decided not to think about it anymore. She rolled up her sleeves and went to the counter to wash vegetables, starting to prepare dinner.

Perhaps it was because she was making dinner for someone she liked and felt the joy of expecting him to come home from work and eat the meal she cooked herself.

This made Cynthia seem to be enveloped in a gentle glow, with a soft and light smile on her red lips.

She didn’t stop until she had made a whole table of delicious home-cooked dishes.

However, the hour hand on the quartz clock passed eight.

The carefully prepared dishes on the table had all gone cold, and no sound of a car came from outside the villa.

Cynthia sat on the sofa in a daze for a long time, her body becoming somewhat stiff.

She moved her shoulders, glanced at the variety show playing on the TV, and then gently lowered her eyes.

"Miss Vaughn, it’s getting late. You might as well not wait any longer," Auntie Golding came up to remind her, her eyes showing a hint of pity.

Patrons’ affections are often careless, they come to see you if they think of you, if they don’t...

"Mm, I’ll go to sleep. You should rest early too." Cynthia lifted a faint smile on the corner of her mouth, then got up from the sofa.

She walked into the dining room, dumped the now-cold dishes into the trash can, but suddenly heard the sound of a car engine turning off from outside.

Cynthia’s dim eyes slightly brightened, she put down the plate in her hand and walked out of the dining room, only to see Mark Joyce walking in with a grave expression.

"Miss Vaughn, President Hawthorne sent me to pick you up, please come with me."

"...Alright." Cynthia saw that Mark Joyce seemed not in a good mood, thinking something had happened to Cyrus Hawthorne, and her heart tightened slightly.

She had personally seen how bad Cyrus’s physical condition was when his old illness flared up. If it weren’t for his strong physique and constant effort in training...

It would probably be hard for him to endure the monthly recurrence of his old illness.

Preoccupied with this point, Cynthia did not notice the mixed and pitiful look Mark Joyce gave her through the rearview mirror.

About forty minutes later, the car stopped steadily at the edge of The Peren River.

In the night, the silver lights on both sides of the river illuminated the dark surface with brilliance, the breeze was refreshing.

However, in stark contrast was the tense confrontation between the two groups of people on the riverside.

Somehow, Cynthia suddenly had a bad premonition spreading in her chest, slowing her steps behind Mark Joyce.

"President Hawthorne, I’ve brought Miss Vaughn." Mark Joyce dutifully said to Cyrus Hawthorne after bringing Cynthia over, then stood aside.

Cynthia’s eyes fell on the noble man leaning against the luxury car, lightly smoking with pursed lips.

Besides the open collar showing a hint of collarbone, giving him a somewhat refined rogue look, she saw no sign of his old illness recurring on him.

Her delicate eyebrows lightly furrowed, just as she was about to ask something, Cyrus pushed on her shoulder, forcing her to face the group of people on a motorboat docked by the river.

The next moment—

"The person you want has been brought, now release Cynthia Vaughn."

His voice was not loud nor soft, just enough for everyone to hear clearly.

Yet it struck like a bolt of thunder, cruelly exploding in Cynthia’s mind.

Cynthia’s pupils shrunk in disbelief, a bitter taste surged from her throat, causing her body to sway slightly.

Only then did she see clearly, on the opposite motorboat, was Cynthia Vaughn tied up, crying pitifully.

"Haha, President Hawthorne is indeed straightforward! According to our agreement, as long as you hand over Cynthia, we’ll send the person back to you!"

The leader on the other side, a shirtless man, waved, and two of his subordinates who were holding Cynthia Vaughn started to walk her over from the motorboat.

Hearing these words, Cynthia was stunned for a few seconds; she didn’t know these people at all, why would they use her to exchange for Cynthia Vaughn?

Before she could think clearly about this oddity, she realized Cyrus’s hand on her shoulder had loosened.

The panic rising from her heart almost drowned Cynthia’s thoughts at that moment.

Cyrus half-squinted his fox-like eyes, his cold face seemingly frozen, his thin lips tightened slightly, then ordered his subordinates behind him, "Send her over."

"You’re going to use my life to secure Cynthia Vaughn’s safety?!" Cynthia reacted, struggling hard to break free from the hands of the two subordinates, her slightly choking voice full of disbelief, "Cyrus, do you hate me that much?"

Her words made Cyrus slightly focus his eyes, shifting his gaze from Cynthia Vaughn to her, a trace of complexity inadvertently flashed in his eyes.

Then, it was overtaken by indifference.

"Am I nothing more than a stepping stone to secure Cynthia Vaughn’s safety in your eyes?"

For whatever Cynthia Vaughn wants, whatever would make her better, whether it was her heart or her very being.

He ruthlessly and heartlessly made the decision.

Cynthia, with her shoulders restrained, walked towards the motorboat, the evening breeze messed her hair, but she never received an answer from Cyrus.

"When you were mingling with those thugs three years ago, you should have expected the consequences."

"Cynthia, you should bear the mistakes you made, that’s only fair."

Suddenly, the casually cool voice floated into Cynthia’s ears with the wind, like a heavy hammer, cruelly shattering the last bit of hope in Cynthia’s heart.

It left her mind blank, her eyes shrinking in disbelief.

Three years ago, mingling with thugs?!

Cynthia stared in shock, her eyes reddening, as if the string that had been tense in her mind suddenly snapped, she began to struggle fiercely.

"I never did that!"

"Sister!" Cynthia Vaughn, who was being escorted over, looked up, revealing the scars on her face, her voice weak and saddened, "Have you forgotten how you begged our parents to solve that matter three years ago? Why did you lie to Cian?"

All the blood in Cynthia’s body froze, hearing Cynthia Vaughn’s words, so different from three years ago, she pointed at Cynthia Vaughn, suddenly laughing.

"Cynthia Vaughn, who was it three years ago that made our parents lie, telling me that as long as I said ’it was me’ in front of the media, it would save the family company?"

"And who kneeled and threatened me to silence the truth after the scandal erupted?!"

"I treated you all as the most important existence in my life, regarded you as my closest relatives, so I kept tolerating again and again, no matter what others thought, I dared not say a word, but what about you?!!"

"You say I’m lying? Cynthia Vaughn, ask yourself who exactly is lying?!!"