CHAPTER 24: CHAPTER 24: CAN’T YOU UNDERSTAND HUMAN SPEECH?

"I told you to toast," Cyrus Hawthorne’s dark eyes were mocking, locking onto Ann Vaughn’s bewildered face like a hawk. His thin lips curled into an arc as he coldly said, "Do you not understand human language?"

Ann Vaughn’s heart tightened, her panicked eyes filled with indescribable helplessness and dimness.

She had dared to hope he would help her...

The man heard Cyrus Hawthorne’s words and was immediately delighted, realizing he had made the right move. He took a glass of wine and pushed it towards Ann Vaughn, "Go on, do it well and there will be benefits for you!"

Yet whether by intention or coincidence, as the glass neared Ann Vaughn, it tilted and spilled directly onto her chest.

The jade-colored qipao was already form-fitting, and the spilled wine accentuated a tempting curve that stirred the imaginations of the onlookers, making their eyes widen.

Ann Vaughn’s face changed dramatically. She hurriedly used her hand to cover the exposed area, her lips tightly bitten.

A sense of humiliation grew like vines, spreading from the soles of her feet to her entire body.

Embarrassment, and her cheeks were burning hot.

But the man didn’t show the slightest remorse, instead making lewd jokes from the side.

Ann Vaughn’s face turned pale as she clutched her trembling shoulders tightly, her ears buzzing so loudly she could scarcely hear what the man was saying.

But when she looked up, she could see Cyrus Hawthorne, sitting opposite her, dressed neatly like a high and mighty monarch, looking at her with an indifferent gaze as if she were an ant.

She was almost unable to stand, leaning back as if to fall.

He despised her so much that even as his nominal wife, it didn’t matter to him if she was humiliated by others.

Ann Vaughn forcibly closed her eyes. Just as she was about to turn and leave, the man grabbed her arm, his laughter filled with malicious intent, "Since your clothes are wet, how about I help you take them off?"

As he spoke, the man attempted to reach for her.

Cyrus had intended to mock the disobedient Ann Vaughn, as she had dared to come here selling her art without his knowledge. But when he saw her being bullied, he couldn’t help but want to teach those perverts a lesson.

He was instructing his subordinates to deal with those filthy hands when suddenly the door to the room was flung open. A shadow flashed by, followed by an ear-piercing wail.

"My hand, hand, help, help, release—"

The man clutched his right hand, howling and curling in pain like a shrimp, utterly pathetic.

Then a deep voice resonated, "Break a leg and throw him out. Don’t let me see him again."

"Yes, Lord Shane."

Sutton Jennings released the man’s abdomen, which he had ruthlessly been stepping on. Turning, he exchanged a glance with the still, poised Cyrus Hawthorne, sparks seemingly colliding in the air.

Afterward, he averted his gaze, walked up to Ann Vaughn, and, with a stern expression, took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders, "I’ll take you away."

Ann Vaughn was still somewhat bewildered, dazed as he led her out.

Aurelia, Level 9, in the exclusive lounge room.

Ann Vaughn changed into dry clothes and walked out, seeing Sutton Jennings approaching her.

Clad in black, his model-like figure was well-proportioned and striking, the shirt collar slightly relaxed, the sleeves casually rolled up to the elbows, revealing his solid, muscular forearms.

From him emanated a constant sense of ready-to-unsheathe danger, especially intimidating.

In the room earlier, she hadn’t had a chance to see his face clearly. Now, she noticed that his alluring eyes seemed somewhat familiar.

Though it was a stern and stoic face, the contrasting pair of flirtatious eyes seemed out of place.

"I’ll clean your jacket and return it to you," Ann Vaughn gathered herself, holding the jacket stained with wine as she approached him, her expression apologetic, "And, thank you for the clothes. I’ll transfer the money to you right now."

Sutton Jennings looked at her with a calm gaze, his voice slightly deep, "No need."

"But..."

Before Ann Vaughn could object, he continued, "You saved my life; a piece of clothing is not enough to repay the debt of saving my life."