"Cyrus Hawthorne." She suddenly called out. A light blush appeared on Ann Vaughn’s porcelain face as she softly said, "I miss you." A low chuckle came from the other side, followed by the man’s deep, magnetic voice: "Open the door." Just as the confusion was rising, Ann Vaughn’s eyes suddenly brightened. She immediately got out of bed, forgetting even her plush slippers, and eagerly ran outside. As the door opened, a tall, slender, and striking figure appeared in Ann Vaughn’s view. Fınd the newest release on 𝗻𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹·𝗳𝗶𝗿𝗲·𝗻𝗲𝘁 In a flash, it was like the mist on the river had dissipated, finally revealing a stunning landscape painting hidden behind. It made her heart tremble uncontrollably. Ann Vaughn didn’t stop her steps and directly threw herself into Cyrus Hawthorne’s slightly open coat, wrapping her arms around his narrow, strong waist, breathing in his unique cold scent with a boundless attachment. A gentle light flickered through Cyrus Hawthorne’s narrow eyes, and he extended his arms to wrap her small body inside his coat, his warm palms gently running through her long hair. The soft, slightly awkward voice from within his embrace asked. "To fulfill someone’s wish." He chuckled quietly, carrying her inside and closing the door with one hand. As soon as the door closed, Ann Vaughn was pressed against the door by Cyrus Hawthorne. Before she could see his current expression, her lips were captured gently yet firmly. The warm tip of his tongue delicately traced her lips, slipping past her slightly parted teeth, softly yet assertively drawing in her sweet scent. Kissed by him, Ann Vaughn’s mind became dizzy from lack of oxygen, and a faint tingling spread from the base of her tongue, with a helpless whimper escaping her in a soft pant. Her back was against the door, her legs weak and almost unable to stand. Cyrus Hawthorne seemed to sense this, pulling her weak, soft body into his arms again, his narrow eyes deepening, as he kissed her once more. Unlike the subtle gentleness from before, this kiss gradually took on a more aggressive tone. Almost too overwhelming for Ann Vaughn. Fortunately, Cyrus Hawthorne remembered that behind the door, the Little Dumpling could come out for milk at any moment, so he didn’t go too far, holding her as he walked toward her room. The night was deep, with only a few scattered stars hanging in the velvety sky. A comfortable warmth and faint coziness spread throughout the room. After the intensity by the door earlier, Cyrus’s action of tossing Ann Vaughn onto the bed left her feeling a bit tense. "My period hasn’t ended yet." She gripped the corner of the quilt, her eyes misty and full of caution. She hadn’t forgotten how Cyrus punished her during her last period. If it happened again, she wouldn’t survive! Setting down the air conditioning remote, Cyrus was amused by her, his thin lips twitching into a smile. He raised a hand to pinch her delicate cheek, his voice low and hoarse, "What do you keep thinking about all day? Just sleep, I won’t touch you." Ann Vaughn pouted, muttering, "Who can say for sure?" A half hour later, Ann Vaughn covered her swollen lips, whimpering as she burrowed into the covers, turning away from the wolf beside her. But before she made it far, Cyrus Hawthorne pulled her back into his arms. Just as she prepared to wriggle free, his deep and threatening voice whispered in her ear, "If you misbehave again, I’ll punish you right here." Ann Vaughn immediately settled down. "By the way," she suddenly lifted her head, looking at Cyrus and asked, "I heard from Vera White that the marriage contract is equivalent to a marriage license for the Hawthorne Family. So does that mean..." He and Miyi Yates were... The thought of this made Ann Vaughn uncomfortable once again. "Ten years ago, maybe," Cyrus Hawthorne said, gently stroking her hair, "But now, it’s at most a token. Unless she and I become legally married, that marriage contract is just a restriction for me." As the Family Head, a marriage contract stamped with his private seal could indeed restrain him? Unless Cyrus Hawthorne was no longer the Family Head. Then, he wouldn’t have to follow any of the Hawthorne Family contract’s clauses. Only then did Ann Vaughn feel a bit relieved, clutching his shirt and sourly asking, "Do you regret not removing marriage contracts from the family rules earlier?" "Indeed, I regret it." Cyrus Hawthorne looked deeply at her with narrow eyes. Ann Vaughn was about to sulk when she heard Cyrus continue, "Not exploiting that loophole sooner to keep you by my side." You truly are a genius. The next day, sunny and warm weather. When Cyrus Hawthorne took a bouquet of white chrysanthemums from the car’s trunk, Ann Vaughn initially didn’t feel anything special. As Cyrus held her hand and without her guiding, smoothly led them to her grandfather’s tombstone, Ann Vaughn felt a stir of emotion. Temporarily casting aside her odd feelings, she crouched down with that rare medical book in hand. "Grandpa, I’ve come to see you." Ann Vaughn placed the flowers in front of the tombstone. Looking at the gentle face in the photograph, her eyes suddenly filled with tears. "This time, I brought you the book you used to love reading the most. Look, your handwriting is still on the pages." "Shall I read you a passage?" Cyrus Hawthorne silently stood beside Ann Vaughn as she held the book, reading aloud with perfect enunciation, her face bathed in the soft golden sunlight, so tender it was unbelievable. He paused, uncharacteristically losing himself for a moment. Ann Vaughn didn’t notice, and after finishing the passage in the rare medical book, her voice softened significantly. "Grandpa, do you remember? Four years ago when Annie came to see you, she said she had found him, but it was too late to bring him to meet you." "Do you see? Your granddaughter, whom you were always worried about, will be very happy. I promise you that." With those words, Ann Vaughn stood up and turned her head to look at Cyrus Hawthorne. Her gaze happened to pass over the bouquet of white chrysanthemums by the tombstone, and she suddenly froze. The placement of that bouquet... Suddenly, she recalled that when they came here, Cyrus had never asked where her grandfather’s grave was, but had brought her straight here. If he hadn’t been here before, he couldn’t have known the way. Ann Vaughn’s eyes widened in shock as she looked at Cyrus Hawthorne’s calm face and blurted out, "Have you been to my grandfather’s grave before? And every month or on his death anniversary, you place a bouquet of white chrysanthemums for him?"