The Federal Bureau and the Inspectorate General in X Country have been enemies for a long time. If Caroll’s dirt falls into their hands, he basically has no hope of climbing up any further. So Caroll doesn’t dare and can’t risk it. Ann Vaughn clicked her tongue silently in awe. He wasn’t even here, yet he managed to arrange everything so well. How many minds does this man have exactly? Moreover, how come she never knew he knew people from the Federal Bureau? The rıghtful source is 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭·𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢·𝗇𝗲𝘵 Ann Vaughn switched hands with the ice pack, thought for a moment, and then said, "Is Lawyer Merck Mercer well-acquainted with Cyrus Hawthorne?" "I knew Albus back in college. After graduation, I started my own business and took many detours. It was through Cyrus’s help that I was able to open my own law firm, which led to the scale I have today," Merck Mercer’s words were filled with unabashed gratitude towards Cyrus Hawthorne. When he was living in a basement, with his only food source being tap water and nearly expired bread from the convenience store, who would have thought he would achieve what he has today? To him, Cyrus Hawthorne is both a kindred spirit and a mentor. So despite the future threat of Caroll’s retaliation, Merck Mercer still came. Seeing the slightly dazed look on Ann Vaughn’s face, Merck Mercer chuckled, "To be honest, in all the years I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him so nervous about someone." The man, usually so quiet and reserved, repeated those words in his ear no fewer than three times, showing just how uneasy he was. However, from Merck Mercer’s perspective, his wife doesn’t seem like a delicate flower in need of constant protection. He can’t understand why he’s so protective of her. Ann Vaughn felt slightly embarrassed, her ears turning a bit red, while her heart filled with a soft, sugary sweetness. Soon, they arrived at Cyrus Hawthorne’s residence. It was a penthouse villa located in a prime area downtown. "The villa is staffed with people arranged by Cyrus. If you need anything, just tell them. Get some rest, and I’ll come to pick you up tomorrow," Merck Mercer said before leaving. "Thank you for the trouble." Ann Vaughn followed the butler inside. After having a late dinner in the circular hall, she went upstairs. The Alfa Romeo stopped on the avenue outside the penthouse villa. The car window rolled down, revealing a little face that looked carved from jade. Kenny looked at the lights on in the villa above and suddenly remembered something. He quickly fished out some paper and a pen from his small backpack. "Take it easy. If your mommy finds out you sneaked to X Country, your butt won’t be safe," Ace of Spades tutted. Who knew where this little tot got such courage from. But thinking about it, there aren’t many people in the world who could make Caroll owe them or dare threaten him. It shows that Little Dumpling is small, but not lacking in guts. "My mommy is very gentle; she would never hit me," Kenny puffed his cheeks, jotting down words on the paper. Ace of Spades leaned over curiously, "What are you doing?" "I haven’t done my kindergarten homework yet. If I don’t send it to mommy in time, I’m doomed," Little Dumpling was in a panic. Oh no, oh no, can he make it in just ten minutes?? Ace of Spades: "..." Where’s the promised gentleness?? Also, you’re brave enough to do things even adults won’t do, yet you’re working on kindergarten homework, seriously! In the large room, it was silent, with only the faint sound of water coming from the bathroom. After being tense all day, relaxing made her easily tired, so Ann Vaughn fell asleep leaning against the edge of the bathtub. Fortunately, the water was warm enough, and the bathroom was cozy, so sleeping wouldn’t make her catch a cold. Soon, the ringtone of a video call woke Ann Vaughn abruptly. She squinted her eyes at the source of the sound, then dried her hands with a towel and picked up her phone. It was Cyrus Hawthorne calling. Ann Vaughn’s eyes brightened slightly. Just as she was about to answer the video call, she suddenly remembered she was in the bath, so she hung up and called him back instead. "Yeah, just got off the plane." Cyrus’s deep, pleasant voice came from the other side, "Why didn’t you answer the video call?" Ann Vaughn felt a burst of happiness from his first sentence, but upon hearing his last one, she couldn’t help but look down at herself, her face turning slightly red. "It’s inconvenient for a video call. Can’t we just talk over the phone?" "Merck said you were hit." Cyrus skipped her question entirely and said forcefully, "I need to see for myself to feel assured." "But I..." Before she could finish, Ann Vaughn found the call had already ended. Immediately, a video call request popped up on her phone screen. "Must you be this strict..." Ann Vaughn muttered softly, putting the phone on the edge of the bathtub and securing it, adjusting it to a safe and appropriate angle before accepting the call. In the next second, the man’s sculpted, chiseled face appeared in the small window. Perhaps due to the lighting, he seemed less menacing than usual, his features sharp and his lips lightly pressed, resembling a painting shrouded in mist. Not clearly visible, yet directly striking at one’s heart. Ann Vaughn, who was still feeling a bit awkward, saw the faint blue under his eyes and immediately melted. "Are you having insomnia again?" Cyrus Hawthorne has never had great sleep quality, and insomnia is a frequent issue. However, this rarely happens when Ann Vaughn is around. "Yes," Cyrus’s dark, narrow eyes were fixed on the red swelling on her right cheek, his brows furrowing incrementally. It was clear that her face had been iced, reducing the swelling significantly, but the red mark on her porcelain-like small face was still heart-wrenching. "Who hit you?" he asked in a deep voice. Ann Vaughn blinked her eyes, "I don’t want to say." "Bringing up others at this time feels like adding a third wheel, but my attention is all on you, and I can’t think of anyone else, you know?" Her soft, tender voice carried a subtle hint of coquettishness, with even her tone lilting. The tension in Cyrus Hawthorne’s brows eased slightly, and looking at her languid appearance, he couldn’t help but feel an urge with his long fingers. He wanted to pinch her cheeks and see her lively, playful angry expression. Instead of seeing her pretending to be okay to prevent him from worrying. At this moment, the phone placed on the side of the bathtub accidentally fell with a plop. Ann Vaughn quickly cushioned the phone with a towel and secured it again. Yet she didn’t hear Cyrus Hawthorne’s voice for a long time. She looked at the screen in puzzlement, "Is the internet bad on your side? I can’t hear you." Cyrus Hawthorne’s Adam’s apple bobbed twice, his narrow eyes dark as ink, looking at the oblivious Ann Vaughn still checking the network, his lower abdomen gradually tightening.