CHAPTER 891: CHAPTER 891: PRETEND TO BE MY BOYFRIEND

"My boyfriend is here to pick me up, so I won’t trouble you any further."

The girl quickly ran up to Cyrus Hawthorne, clasped her hands together, and pleaded, "Sir, can I ask you a favor? I’ve been targeted by some bad people. Could you pretend to be my boyfriend and help me leave?"

In the safe space cordoned off by the Hidden Guards, Cyrus Hawthorne stood with one hand in his pocket, holding a sleek black phone in the other. He deftly tapped a few buttons, calmly replying to some important texts.

The girl’s plea didn’t catch his attention at all, but it did make the Hidden Guards behind him more alert.

"Please, please, just for a moment. It won’t take up too much of your time," the girl implored again with urgency. Her large, watery eyes glistened with a pitiful light, and her slightly pursed pink lips were incredibly endearing.

Probably no one could bear to refuse such a sweet-looking and pitiful girl.

Especially with those two men standing not far away, eyeing them with obvious ill intentions.

Yet, Cyrus Hawthorne remained indifferent, his stern face showing no emotion. He then handed his phone to Sept by his side, instructing in a deep voice, "Return it."

"Yes, sir," Sept immediately moved forward and opened the door of the car parked by the roadside.

The Hidden Guards surrounded him protectively, preventing the girl from catching up, leaving her to watch helplessly as Cyrus Hawthorne got into the car.

"Sir, you’re really lacking in gentlemanly conduct!" The girl’s eyes reddened, "I’m not a bad person!"

Sept closed the car door gently, glanced at the girl, and said coldly, "Not agreeing means he’s refusing. Don’t you understand that?"

Besides, there are so many people here; she could ask anyone to help her leave. Why was she so fixated on the sir?

Soon after, the car drove off.

The girl stomped her feet in frustration. Despite her desperate plea, Cyrus Hawthorne just ignored her?!

Even so, she dared not linger there and quickly headed in the direction of the security team not far away.

...

The hot air balloon meadow.

The hot air balloon with the daisy pattern began to ascend, leaving everything on the ground far behind, and revealing an increasingly wide view ahead.

As it climbed to a certain height, Ann Vaughn’s legs inexplicably felt weak. She leaned on the basket for a while before gradually getting used to it, and the fear in her heart lessened considerably.

She breathed a sigh of relief. If she didn’t know about her fear of heights and still came here, it would be tantamount to suicide.

The flight assistant sharing the ride with her walked over and crouched down to adjust something.

"It’s me."

Suddenly hearing Kressiel’s voice, Ann Vaughn was momentarily stunned. Just as she was about to look at her, she was stopped.

"The pilot is the one monitoring you. Don’t look at me or speak, just listen," Kressiel continued, "Tomorrow is the first day of the mourning period. After today’s celebration ends, The Royal City will deploy a large number of guards to maintain order. The defenses in the city will be more relaxed than usual."

"This is the map of The Royal City, and the appearance of my friend tomorrow. Remember it well."

After speaking, Kressiel discreetly kicked a photo towards Ann Vaughn.

The last time they met, Kressiel was supposed to hand these over to Ann Vaughn, but there wasn’t enough time.

Having done this, Kressiel nonchalantly got up and left Ann Vaughn’s side.

After she left, a long while passed before Ann Vaughn feigned rubbing her ankle and covertly picked up the photo, tucking it into her pocket.

Reaching into her pocket, Ann Vaughn felt something amiss.

She remembered not placing anything in her pocket, yet her fingers touched something akin to a small card.

After some thought, Ann Vaughn didn’t take it out immediately. Once she secured the photo, she continued enjoying the view.

About an hour later, the hot air balloons hovering over Gothasen gradually descended to the ground.

As Ann Vaughn disembarked, she spotted Betty approaching with a group of bodyguards.

"Princess, we’ve finally found you. It’s crowded and chaotic here, not safe at all. You shouldn’t wander off anymore," Betty said worriedly.

Ann Vaughn’s eyelashes fluttered lightly, and suddenly she lost all desire to continue her adventure. She nodded gently, "I’ve had enough fun; let’s head back."

"Alright."

...

Click.

The VIP room’s door was quietly pushed open, and a freshly changed Kressiel tiptoed inside, flipping on the light switch on the wall.

With a soft click, the entire room instantly brightened.

Just as Kressiel was about to move forward, she was startled by a figure on the sofa, instinctively stepping back.

"Who is it?"

The person turned their head, their glassy dark red eyes glancing at Kressiel, and said languidly, "Come and sit."

"W-Warren, brother..." Kressiel was not relieved but instead broke out in a cold sweat.

She hesitated for a while, holding her coat, before slowly walking over to take a seat.

"I heard you and Annie are pretty close," Warren Vance sipped his coffee nonchalantly before asking.

Kressiel’s heart skipped a beat, and she smiled casually, "Yes, I’ve collaborated with Annie on several projects, and we’re also friends in private."

Even though Ann Vaughn, that heartless girl, had forgotten her.

Warren Vance chuckled lightly, "Then you should also know about her situation in The Royal City right now."

Not understanding his intent in asking, Kressiel became increasingly anxious, and with a forced smile, nodded, "I do, and I even met with her."

Since Warren Vance was asking, it meant he already knew they had met.

Denying it would only further arouse his suspicion, so it was better to admit it directly.

"After you met with her, she fainted," Warren Vance set down the coffee cup, interlacing his fingers naturally, his tone even, "What did you two discuss?"

"N-Nothing much, just reminiscing..."

"You mentioned Cyrus Hawthorne and Elijah Hawthorne to her, didn’t you?"

Kressiel’s eyes widened, how the hell did he know?!

Ann Vaughn told him? No, that shouldn’t be possible...

Warren Vance caught all her reactions in his gaze, his eyes increasingly dangerous, "Kressiel, you’re a smart person. Offending me is of no benefit to you or your family. I hope you remember that."

With those words, Warren Vance got up and left.

Kressiel sat there, frozen, unable to move for a long time.

Ann Vaughn had saved her life before. She couldn’t just abandon her, but if she helped her, her family would...

What should she do to do the right thing?