The kiss was as light as a feather, barely touching before it left. Ann Vaughn’s eyes, sparkling like scattered stars, carried a hint of flattery as she whispered to Cyrus Hawthorne. "Whatever we have to say, let’s say it back home. With so many people around, I need to save face. Please don’t expose me, alright?" No matter the circumstances, playing it safe was always Ann Vaughn’s survival principle. Even though the man’s aura didn’t exude a strong sense of hostility and coldness, Ann Vaughn just knew, this time, he’d truly gotten angry... Cyrus Hawthorne looked down, focusing on Ann Vaughn’s half-hidden face under the black veil, his eyes stormy and his Adam’s apple moving up and down. "I’m giving you two minutes," he said in a deep voice. Ann Vaughn’s scalp tingled; two minutes aren’t even enough to kill a pig, and she still had a gun in her hand!! She took a deep breath and turned her head to glance at Princess Astrid, who was gnashing her teeth but dared not step forward. The starlight in her bright eyes gradually faded, turning cold. "Princess Astrid, you better watch closely." Before Astrid could open her mouth to retaliate, five gunshots rang out in quick succession, forcibly interrupting what she was about to say. "Five shots, each one hitting the ten rings, with a total of fifty rings!" The staff checked the targets and loudly reported the results. A dead silence fell over the shooting range. Five shots, each hitting the ten rings, wasn’t actually much; many present were capable of such a feat. Ann Vaughn had fired with her eyes closed from start to finish!! Everyone gathered at the shooting range had some talent in this sport, capable of impressive feats. But to hit the bullseye with eyes closed, aside from Cyrus Hawthorne, there was hardly anyone else who could do it. "How is this possible..." someone uttered in disbelief. "Mr. Warren’s face must be hurting. Testing The Black Rose with shooting, unaware that she herself is The Black Rose, otherwise how could she have such remarkable marksmanship?" "I don’t care if she’s The Black Rose or not, but she’s not someone we can provoke." "She was so cool; while shooting earlier, she was incredibly dashing!" The constant murmuring reached Astrid’s ears, turning her already pale face an even darker shade, her eyes like erupting volcanoes, jealousy growing unchecked. The real Black Rose was supposed to be trapped in Sylar Forest, how could it be this woman! Astrid tried convincing herself that Ann Vaughn wasn’t The Black Rose, but her brain went in different directions, reminding her that if she wasn’t, then who was?! The more she thought about it, the paler Astrid became, her body quaking like a leaf. "They... all hit?" Ann Vaughn had originally thought that if she failed, at least Cyrus Hawthorne would back her up, but even she hadn’t expected this. All five shots, right on the bullseye! Mindful of her image, Ann Vaughn didn’t jump around but clung onto Cyrus Hawthorne’s arm, shaking it endlessly, "Quinn, Quinn, did you see that? Am I amazing or what?" Seeing her so eager for praise, Cyrus Hawthorne’s thin lips curved into a smile, which quickly vanished. Even he hadn’t anticipated that Ann Vaughn’s marksmanship would be this good. The way she fired was crisp and clean, without a hint of superfluous movement, so refreshingly different from her usual spoiled, coquettish demeanor. And such skills couldn’t have been honed in just a day or two. Follow current novels on 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭⟡𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦⟡𝘯𝘦𝘵 Cyrus Hawthorne’s brows furrowed slightly, a fleeting depth crossing his cold, handsome face. He lifted his hand, ruffling Ann Vaughn’s hair, saying as she wished, "Yes, I saw it. Very impressive." Ann Vaughn’s crescent-shaped eyes brightened even more, before she composed herself into a cool posture, addressing the now petrified Kane Warren with a calm tone, "You all continue the competition. If anyone can surpass me, then come find me to fulfill a promise." With that, she took Cyrus Hawthorne’s arm and left the area with him. Kane Warren, looking pale as dirt, watched their retreating figures, unable to even sigh. Not to mention that they couldn’t surpass The Black Rose’s display just now, even if all those on the yacht came to compete, no one could outdo her. Unless they could coax Mr. Hawthorne to participate. But given The Black Rose’s relationship with Mr. Hawthorne, how senseless would they be to do that? "Princess Astrid," Kane Warren’s voice dropped, looking with disappointment at the absent-minded Astrid, "You shouldn’t have recklessly provoked the lady and dragged us all into this mess." Now, they all owed The Black Rose a condition. Who knew what The Black Rose might do with that condition? Hearing Kane Warren’s words, the crowd remembered what Astrid had said before, feeling both shocked and angry. "Princess Astrid, you knew The Black Rose wasn’t to be messed with, so why did you implicate us all? Do you know how many families are involved altogether?" "Why did you have to raise the stakes? Raising them is one thing, but did you hear the condition you set for The Black Rose? To reveal her true face? Weren’t you afraid of being scared to death!" "It’s over, it’s over. If my parents find out about this, they’ll skin me alive!!" "You all—" Astrid’s eyes widened with fury, her entire body trembling with rage. These people, who had flattered and fawned over her only moments ago, now turned against her, beginning to criticize her! She was a dignified princess, what was The Black Rose, just a widow!? They feared offending The Black Rose but didn’t fear offending her? On the other side of the shooting range entrance. A blond man dressed casually stood with one hand against the wall, watching everything unfold with interest. The subordinate standing behind him asked, since he hadn’t gone inside yet, "Boss, Princess Astrid has offended The Black Rose this time, should we..." "The Black Rose?" The blond man crossed his arms, a curious smile playing at the corner of his mouth, "She is indeed a rose with thorns, just... not black enough." The blond man said, with some regret, "If it were me, one of those five bullets would have hit Astrid’s head." Killing the chicken to scare the monkey, sometimes you need to shed real blood. This little rose’s methods are still too gentle. Whatever unfolded later in the shooting range, Ann Vaughn didn’t care about. Because at that moment, she didn’t have the strength to care about anything else. As the door closed, she was pinned against the cold, hard door by Cyrus Hawthorne, her small body trapped between his arms, with no escape. Ann Vaughn made a nimble move to squat down and escape, but his hot palm gripped her waist, leaning down to bite her lip heavily. "A business trip?" His slightly hoarse voice held a trace of danger, like the breath brushing against Ann Vaughn’s cheek, making her want to shiver uncontrollably.