CHAPTER 889: CHAPTER 889: ARE YOU FAKE?

Cyrus Hawthorne’s brow furrowed deeply, a dark cloud surrounding him, almost spilling over menacingly.

Mark Joyce had a sudden flash of insight and quickly said to Cyrus Hawthorne, "President Hawthorne, Miss Vaughn has always been most concerned about your health. If she knew you were neglecting your own safety to find her, she would definitely blame herself."

As expected, the coldness on Cyrus Hawthorne’s body slightly faded, and he no longer insisted on being discharged immediately.

Mark Joyce and the doctors breathed a sigh of relief.

...

And what exactly was Ann Vaughn, whom millions worried might be whisked away, doing right now?

Warren Vance walked into the room, his eyes sweeping around and landing on Ann Vaughn, who was seated on the side of the sofa.

Today, she wore a light green silk long dress with a snow-white lace shawl draped over it, her long hair with slightly curled tips cascading down her back, making her look lazy yet carefree.

It wasn’t until he approached that Warren Vance saw what she was doing.

She was using her right hand to pick green beans one by one from the plate on the left to the right, but since her right hand lacked strength, the beans kept slipping from her fingertips.

Picking green beans seemed easy, but it required dexterous fingers, especially for Ann Vaughn, whose right hand had been injured, making it even more challenging.

However, Ann Vaughn didn’t look frustrated, remaining exceptionally patient.

"Did you have fun last night?" Warren Vance casually turned on the switch on the wall, and the curtains in the room automatically drew together, followed by the crystal chandelier lighting up.

Soon after, he elegantly seated himself in front of Ann Vaughn.

Ann Vaughn glanced at the White Mandala in the vase on the table and nodded slightly, "It was okay."

If only the Sixth Princess hadn’t declared war on her later, she would have enjoyed it even more.

Thinking of this, Ann Vaughn looked up at the heavy drapes, so tightly shut that hardly any sunlight could penetrate, and contemplated.

"Warren." She suddenly spoke.

Warren Vance turned his head to look at her, "Hmm?"

"Are you a vampire?" Ann Vaughn stopped picking beans and asked calmly.

Upon hearing her question, Warren Vance’s lips curled into a smile, the meaning in his dark red eyes profound, "Why do you ask so suddenly?"

"In fact, I’ve long suspected it." In facing his enchanting eyes, Ann Vaughn showed no sign of fear, "I just thought such a thing was too absurd to exist, so I never asked."

After all, who among normal people would be so averse to sunlight?

He carries an umbrella on cloudy days, pulls the drapes in rooms that sunlight can’t reach, and is rarely seen during the day...

Though Ann Vaughn thought the suspicion ridiculous, she still asked.

"What if I am?" Warren Vance squinted, his smile growing more amused.

He’s eager to know how Ann Vaughn, having completely forgotten previous memories, would react once she knew again he was a vampire.

Ann Vaughn gazed at Warren Vance’s pale handsome face for a moment and then beckoned him closer, "Could you lean in a little?"

Raising a brow, Warren Vance leaned in closer to her as she instructed.

But the next second, something cool was suddenly pressed against his forehead.

—A cross.

Warren Vance’s eyes paused momentarily, his crystal-like dark red eyes reflecting Ann Vaughn’s puzzled expression.

"Not a vampire, huh? Why no reaction to the cross?" Ann Vaughn pressed the cross to his forehead, confused, "Are you fake?"

Warren Vance: "..."

"Such a trinket can’t harm me." Warren Vance sat back naturally crossing his legs, "More importantly, where did you get this cross?"

"Found it in the drawer." Ann Vaughn pointed at the vanity, though she didn’t know why it was in there either, and asked, "Are you afraid of garlic?"

Possibly worried she might pull out a string of garlic next, Warren Vance said, "All the protective items you know have no effect on me."

Strangely enough, Ann Vaughn was more surprised by the fact that the cross couldn’t frighten Warren Vance than by him being a vampire.

"So, are you invincible?"

Warren Vance propped his chin with one hand, his demeanor lazy, "There’s only one thing in this world that can harm me and even end my immortality."

Ann Vaughn couldn’t help but ask, "What is it?"

Warren Vance slightly tilted his head, meeting her gaze, wordlessly.

"...Sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have asked."

"No." Warren Vance gently shook his head, saying meaningfully, "You’ll find out sooner or later."

Unknowingly, Ann Vaughn sincerely looked at him, her bright eyes shining, "Actually, you can tell me at noon, so we don’t have to wait for sooner or later."

Warren Vance: "..."

Ann Vaughn’s words have the power to choke a ghost.

"By the way, tomorrow is the last day of the festival. If possible, I’d like to go around the city center myself." Without waiting for Warren Vance to speak again, Ann Vaughn continued, adding "Is that alright?"

Warren Vance lightly smiled, "Why wouldn’t it be? You’re my future bride, not my prisoner."

Ann Vaughn’s eyes brightened, skipping over his words and placing the cross into Warren Vance’s hands, "Thank you, consider this a token of appreciation."

Looking at the cross in his palm, Warren Vance felt it wasn’t something he really wanted.

But since it was a gift from Ann Vaughn, he reluctantly accepted it.

After leaving Ann Vaughn’s room, Warren Vance called for Quinn Bishop, gently instructed him on a few things, and then said:

"If you find the Princess having contact with Kressiel, have someone take Kressiel away immediately."

This outing of Ann Vaughn’s happened to coincide with Kressiel’s; whether it’s a coincidence or not, Warren Vance would eliminate any potential accidents from the start.

"Yes, Your Highness."

...

The next day.

Before the trip began, Ann Vaughn thought she would be going alone.

However, when she saw Betty and a group of bodyguards sent by Warren Vance, she understood why Warren was so agreeable last night.

With so many people watching her, even if she yawned, Warren Vance would know...

By now, Ann Vaughn couldn’t willfully say she didn’t want to go anymore, so she got into the car.

Two and a half hours later, in the city center.

During the festival, the streets were crowded with people as thick as a shoal of fish crossing a river. Everywhere one looked, there were quaint little shops and comedic performers on stages, while balloons and streamers rained down from above, creating a lively scene.

After putting on sunglasses and a mask, Ann Vaughn stepped out of the car and spotted a group of wobbling white bear mascots passing by, each plump and looking adorably clumsy.

As they walked and jumped, crowds of onlookers occasionally joined in to dance with them!

Ann Vaughn couldn’t resist reaching out to secretly touch one of the bear’s paws.