CHAPTER 113: CHAPTER 113: AVOID STRENUOUS ACTIVITY

However, just as the elevator doors were about to close, a distinct, bony hand separated them, forcing the almost-closing doors back open.

The aristocratically tall figure appeared before Ann Vaughn as if from another world, with the overhead light casting down on his chiseled and handsome face. His cold and indifferent expression sent chills down one’s spine.

Cyrus Hawthorne stepped into the elevator with long strides, his narrow eyes dark and stormy as they fixed on Ann Vaughn’s serene and petite face.

Yet Ann Vaughn seemed unaware, her head slightly lowered, her bright eyes staring at the floor, not glancing at him in the slightest.

Suddenly, Ann Vaughn’s delicate chin was grasped forcefully by his strong hand, forcing her to look directly at him.

"Spending four days at the Jennings Family, Ann Vaughn, do you think that having another man means I can’t do anything to you, hmm?"

His cold voice, so chilling it seemed to reach the nerves’ ends, struck Ann Vaughn’s eardrums, forcing her to lift her eyelids and look into his deep, black eyes.

Her red lips parted as if to say something but ultimately closed again.

Even if she explained, he wouldn’t believe her.

Little did she know her silence seemed to imply something, instantly igniting the five-day-old fury in Cyrus Hawthorne’s chest!

He tightened his grip on her chin, a cold laughter escaping his throat, "You’re doing quite well."

Ding—

The elevator doors opened at this moment.

Ann Vaughn felt a chill run down her spine under his chillingly terrifying gaze; the next second, he pulled her out of the elevator, heading straight for the master bedroom.

He threw her onto the large bed behind him, her leg’s injury flaring with sharp pain again.

Before she could react, his tall, imposing figure pressed down on her.

"What do you want to do?" Ann Vaughn’s heart pounded anxiously, as if about to jump out, her eyes wide with fear and unease.

Whenever he thought of her showing such a damned expression while beside another man, Cyrus Hawthorne felt murderous.

"What do you want to do?" Cyrus coldly curled his thin lips, his narrow eyes glinting with a cruel light, "Naturally, an inspection."

Inspection?

Ann Vaughn’s body trembled slightly, her pupils reflecting his image, suddenly seeming to lose the ability to form any sound.

The frequency and sound of her heartbeat magnified in her ears, giving her an almost dizzying illusion.

"No matter how many times I say there’s nothing between Sutton Jennings and me, you won’t believe it." Ann Vaughn forcefully closed her eyes, enduring the pain he inflicted, "As long as Cynthia Vaughn says one word, you don’t even care about my life."

"Inspect however you want; after all, in your eyes, I’m nothing but an insignificant object, am I not?"

It sounded like an accusation, yet also like self-mockery.

Cyrus Hawthorne lowered his gaze, staring at her pale little face, his palm slightly rigid, his heart pounding as undefined vexation lingered between his brows.

"Do you think saying this will make me let you go?" He let out an indifferent cold laugh.

The room temperature was so dry and scorching that even the exhaled breath felt hot.

Who knows how long passed.

The scene outside was dark, with a faint streak of white on the horizon.

After sating himself, the man’s demeanor seemed particularly gentle and approachable as he took Ann Vaughn into the bathroom to clean her up.

However, upon carrying Ann Vaughn back to the bed, Cyrus Hawthorne noticed the sporadically red-stained sheets on the floor, his brows slightly furrowing.

He pulled the quilt over the already exhausted and heavily asleep Ann Vaughn, then picked up his phone from the table and moved to the floor-to-ceiling window, making a call to the private doctor, instructing him to come to the estate immediately.

Within fifteen minutes, the private doctor hurriedly arrived at the villa with a medical kit.

After diagnosing Ann Vaughn, the private doctor held back a smile, "President Hawthorne, during Young Madam’s pregnancy, especially in the first three months, it’s best to avoid intercourse."

"What do you mean?" Cyrus Hawthorne’s brows knitted even tighter.

"It’s not good for Young Madam’s health and the child. It could lead to miscarriage in severe cases. I’ll prescribe some medicine to protect the pregnancy, but she needs rest these days and should avoid strenuous activity..."

Upon hearing this, Cyrus lightly coughed, pressing a fist to his lips, and said in a deep voice, "What other precautions during pregnancy need to be taken, just say them briefly."

The private doctor immediately succinctly listed all the precautions, left some medicines for safeguarding the pregnancy, then departed.

Once outside, the private doctor couldn’t help but laugh twice.

Despite normally controlling every situation at the company, Mr. Hawthorne lost his composure when becoming a father for the first time, making such a juvenile mistake.

The private doctor was someone Grandpa Hawthorne trusted; he had overseen Cyrus Hawthorne’s recovery after his car accident those years ago. Therefore, he had good relations with both the grandfather and grandson and felt free to speak candidly.