CHAPTER 920: CHAPTER 920: I WON’T EAT YOU

Cyrus Hawthorne gazed at the closed door, his narrow eyes dark and turbulent, his handsome face shadowed and somber.

Kenny was a bit restless, standing on tiptoe to push the door open, but was stopped by Cyrus.

"Your mommy wouldn’t want you to see her crying. If you go in, it’ll only make her feel worse."

He couldn’t bear to deceive Kenny, but to explain it clearly would be like pouring salt on her wounds.

"Then what should I do?" The Little Dumpling’s head drooped down.

"Wait." Cyrus coolly uttered a single word.

...

The night deepened gradually, and the villa was quiet.

Ann Vaughn pressed her dry lips together, stepping lightly downstairs, heading into the kitchen.

Unexpectedly, she saw light spilling out from the kitchen and heard a faint clattering sound.

As she approached, her red-tinged eyes widened slightly at the scene in the kitchen.

The previously neat and clean kitchen was now a mess, with flour scattered all over the table, eggshells thrown everywhere, along with a mixer and a cake mold...

One wonders what kind of inhuman treatment had caused them to look like that.

Yet the figure standing at the counter remained meticulously composed, as if oblivious to the mess in the room, elegantly piping out an unrecognizable pattern on a cake base with frosting.

"Mr. Vaughn...?" Ann couldn’t help but speak up, her voice a bit hoarse, "It’s so late and you’re still awake?"

Hearing her, Cyrus slightly raised his head, his gaze landing on Ann’s face.

His eyes lingered quietly on her reddened eyes and weary complexion for a moment before shifting away.

"Why aren’t you asleep?"

"Can’t really fall asleep, so I came down for some water."

Ann Vaughn smiled faintly, walked to the fridge, and took out a bottle of cold water.

Before she could unscrew the cap, Cyrus poured her a glass of warm water, pushing the glass in front of her, saying succinctly, "Drinking cold water at night is bad for your stomach."

Ann paused with the bottle cap, then placed the cold water aside and took the warm water.

"Thank you."

After a few sips of warm water, the dryness in Ann’s throat was slightly relieved, prompting her to ask, "Are you planning to make a cake for Kenny yourself?"

Though she hadn’t expected...

This man, who was quite skilled in cooking, knew nothing about making desserts.

Yet, it’s understandable, as cooking and baking are not quite the same.

"Yes." Cyrus furrowed his brows slightly, "I wanted to do something for him, but it’s not going very smoothly."

Hearing this, Ann felt a soft spot in her heart, put down the glass, and went over to roll up her sleeves, "Let me help you."

"Won’t it disturb your rest?"

"How could it? I can’t sleep anyway. Better to do something meaningful than lie in bed counting llamas."

Counting... llamas?

Cyrus raised an eyebrow, the little one’s new hobby?

The cake base that was initially baked couldn’t be used, so they had to bake another one.

However, due to her right hand, Ann could only handle minor, effortless details, leaving the rest to Cyrus.

As the cake baked, Ann taught Cyrus how to pipe the frosting nicely on the cake base.

Looking at Ann standing on the opposite side of the counter, quite a distance away, Cyrus ran his tongue over his teeth casually, "Miss Vaughn, sometimes my hearing isn’t that good."

The underlying message was—

Come closer, I won’t bite.

Ann originally kept her distance to avoid suspicion.

Hearing his words, she had no choice but to move over to his side, still maintaining two steps between them.

"First like this, then like this..." She instructed with her head down, missing Cyrus’s slightly amused look.

Half an hour passed.

The attempts were mostly unsuccessful.

Seeing the crooked frosting flowers on the cake base made Ann anxious. She stepped forward, holding Cyrus’s right hand with her left.

"This is how you pipe it; your method was wrong."

So saying, she used the strength of his wrist to outline a perfect frosting flower on the cake base.

Cyrus’s eyes held a deep amusement, "I see."

Ann, thinking he had understood how to do it, released his hand.

Yet the frosting flowers Cyrus piped out afterward were almost the same as before, only slightly improved.

"..."

Unable to bear seeing him waste the frosting, when the cake was ready, Ann took it out and straightforwardly held his hand, step by step decorating the cake base with him.

Completely unaware of the faint laughter flashing in Cyrus’s eyes.

"Done." Ann placed the last cherry on the frosting, looking at the perfect cake in front of her with a satisfied smile, "Kenny will surely love it."

"Yes." A smiling voice came from beside her.

The warm breath brushed past her ear, causing Ann’s body to shiver slightly.

It was also at this moment that she suddenly realized—

The distance between her and Cyrus was uncomfortably close.

So close that she could distinctly feel from her back the powerful heartbeat from his chest, and as he slightly lowered his head, his firm chin lightly grazed her hair.

Instantly, it made Ann’s cheeks flush red.

Seeing Ann’s ears as red as if they’d bleed, a trace of laughter passed through Cyrus’s eyes, not only did he not back away, but he leaned closer.

"Thanks to Miss Vaughn’s careful guidance, this cake turned out so well."

The scent of cold cedar surrounded Ann, her breath caught, her heartbeat skipping a beat.

The amusement in Cyrus’s eyes deepened, "This is Miss Vaughn’s reward."

Out of nowhere, he produced two little puddings and placed them in front of Ann, then stepped back from behind her.

Ann finally breathed a sigh of relief, looking at the two puddings, she asked, "Did you make these?"

But she hadn’t seen him make pudding earlier, so they must have been made by the chef ahead of time.

Cyrus, of course, wouldn’t tell her, his pristine face smiling faintly, "Would you like to taste it?"

"Thank you." Ann didn’t stand on ceremony, picking up a spoon, she dug in.

The mango-flavored pudding melted in her mouth, sweet but not cloying, with a texture like ice cream, making Ann’s eyes light up.

In no time, she finished the two puddings, still wanting more.

Cyrus gazed at her slightly puffed cheeks, akin to a little hamster who had stolen some treats, her mouth bulging, looking utterly satisfied and almost bubbling with contentment.

Cyrus’s long fingers twisted slightly, for some reason, his fingertips itched.

But ultimately, he restrained himself from the urge to pinch her cheeks, maintaining his usual calm demeanor.

"It’s getting late, and there’s an early start tomorrow. Go to bed early."

Thanks to those two little puddings, Ann’s dreams in the latter half of the night were filled with pudding.

Only that, just as she was about to take a bite, morning arrived.