Dr. Sullivan, following Tanya’s instructions, fed Vincent the medicine. When Vincent tasted that familiar bitter medicine, his eyes, which had been silent in pain, trembled slightly. He looked towards the door; the study door was closed, and he didn’t know if someone with a tough mouth but a soft heart was standing guard outside... Vincent closed his eyes for a moment. The bitter medicine slid down his throat, reminding him of how Tanya used to wait for him to finish and would peel a mint candy for him. "Dr. Sullivan, open the door," Vincent suddenly said, squeezing out these words through his teeth. Although Dr. Sullivan found it a bit inexplicable, he complied nonetheless. He opened the door and looked around, but the hallway outside was empty, not a single person in sight. When he turned back, he saw Vincent, pale, supporting himself on the sofa, looking towards the door, clearly expecting someone to appear. Dr. Sullivan understood; he was waiting for Mrs. Hawthorne. "Mr. Hawthorne, how about I ask Aunt Tawny to check if Mrs. Hawthorne has gone to sleep?" Dr. Sullivan suggested diplomatically. The medicine was delivered by someone else, while she herself had gone to sleep! A trace of embarrassed annoyance flashed in Vincent’s eyes, and he closed them heavily, lay back down, and said coldly, "What is the point of calling her here? To anger me?" Who was just craning his neck looking out? But after all, these were issues between the couple, and since he worked for them, Dr. Sullivan naturally didn’t say much. He followed Tanya’s instructions, administered acupuncture to Vincent, worked for half an hour, and was surprised to find that Vincent’s pulse had remarkably stabilized. This Mrs. Hawthorne is truly incredible! Dr. Sullivan couldn’t help but respect Tanya Sinclair. In terms of professional ability, at least in the field of Chinese medicine, Tanya was definitely way ahead of him, perhaps even on par with his mentor. Although his mentor was a renowned figure in the field of Chinese medicine, how could such a remarkable woman as Tanya Sinclair have no accomplishments in the medical field? The next second, his gaze fell on Mr. Hawthorne, who was already sound asleep, and he suddenly understood. Dr. Sullivan shook his head lightly with pity, feeling, even as an outsider, that Tanya Sinclair’s sacrifices seemed unwarranted. That night, Tanya still slept in the guest room, setting an early alarm so as not to wake the two children. As soon as the alarm sounded, Tanya woke right up. She instinctively glanced outside the window, seeing that Dr. Sullivan’s car was still parked there. He didn’t leave last night; as a family doctor, he was earning his keep and being diligent. When Tanya came out, she saw Dr. Sullivan asleep on the living room sofa. She silently turned and went upstairs, heading to the study. The door was unexpectedly ajar, perhaps for Dr. Sullivan to easily check on Vincent’s condition during the night. As Tanya entered, Vincent was still lying on the sofa, his face slightly pale, but compared to last night’s sudden gastric attack, he looked much better. He was asleep with his eyes closed, frowning slightly as if dreaming about something. Tanya glanced at him and then looked away indifferently. Read full story at novｅlfire.net She was there to fetch her suitcase. She pulled her suitcase out from behind the bookshelf and quietly carried it out. "Tanya..." Suddenly, Vincent’s voice, sounding like a dream murmur, came from behind. Tanya’s back stiffened, but she paused only momentarily and left without looking back. She didn’t care whether Vincent was truly awake or not; either way, she wasn’t going to stay to take care of him. Not letting him die from pain last night was only because he was the biological father of the two children; if he suffered too much, so would Caden and Joy. Tanya placed the suitcase in the trunk of the four-million-dollar luxury car, returned to the guest room, and quickly packed her personal belongings. Before leaving, Tanya went to Caden and Joy’s room. As she gazed at her two children’s angelic sleeping faces, the last tender place in her heart shattered into a pool of mush. Tonight, she wouldn’t be returning. No matter how reluctant she felt, Tanya knew she must leave today! She loved the two children, but she couldn’t sacrifice herself any further by staying in this house just for them. Before anyone woke up, Tanya drove away from the villa. Aunt Tawny came out of her room and had just reached the living room when she saw Tanya’s car sliding past outside. Her brain, which was still a bit sleepy, suddenly woke up completely, and she immediately sent a message to the old lady. Tanya drove to a narrow road’s bend and met a familiar white BMW coming her way. The woman in the driver’s seat was Cindy Lynn, already impeccably dressed early in the morning! Tanya’s originally indifferent face instantly turned ice-cold. This road only led to the villa; clearly, Cindy Lynn was coming to see Vincent early this morning. Tanya pressed the horn expressionlessly, urging Cindy Lynn ahead to make way. Whether it was intentional or just poor driving, her car blocked two-thirds of the road. However, Cindy Lynn showed no intention of making way; instead, she revved the engine and came straight at her. Tanya Sinclair could be sure that this woman was doing it on purpose! She curled her lips coldly, not backing down at all, and drove straight into Cindy Lynn! The luxury car, worth over four million, was obviously far superior in performance to the one opposite, forcing Cindy Lynn’s car to retreat step by step. Cindy Lynn never expected Tanya Sinclair to react this way! The Tanya Sinclair she knew before never wanted to start trouble. She was mild-mannered and hated conflict. Even though Tanya had become sharper with her words after waking up, Cindy Lynn never took her seriously. But now... was she crazy?! At this time, there weren’t many cars on the road, and Cindy Lynn could clearly hear the engine roar from the car in front, growing louder as if excitedly ready to crush her in the next moment! Cindy Lynn felt her scalp tighten, became a bit flustered, and swerved away at the last moment. As the cars crossed paths, she looked at Tanya Sinclair through the car window, as if just recognizing her, with an innocent and apologetic expression. "Ms. Tanya, it’s you. I’m sorry, I’m not quite used to driving this car." Cindy Lynn apologized while picking up a thermal box at her side, "President Hawthorne messaged saying his stomach was upset and wanted some of the porridge I made. So I prepared it for him." Tanya Sinclair recognized the thermal box; she had seen it in the kitchen of the villa before. Now this thermal box was in Cindy Lynn’s hands, which could only mean that Vincent Hawthorne had used this thermal box to bring things to her. Cindy Lynn smiled sweetly, "Ms. Tanya, you’re heading to the office this early? How about going home to have some porridge with President Hawthorne..." Seeing her face made Tanya Sinclair nauseous, so she rolled up the car window and drove off with the pedal floored. Through the rearview mirror, Cindy Lynn watched Tanya Sinclair drive away, the curve of her lips fading. Her eyes turned coldly smug; she casually tossed aside the thermal box, deftly shifted into reverse, turned the wheel, and the car’s nose steadily returned to the road, heading towards the villa at the end. In the villa’s living room, Ian Sullivan had woken up too; he had just put on his glasses when he heard the sound of the main door unlocking. Instinctively looking over, he saw the radiant Cindy Lynn walking in directly with a thermal box, unfazed. "Dr. Sullivan, you’re here too? Vincent didn’t tell me. If I’d known earlier, I’d have brought you some breakfast too." She apologized, entirely taking on the demeanor of a hostess feeling the guest was not well attended to. He didn’t understand, and felt even more bewildered having just woken up. "Is Vincent in the master bedroom?" "...Study room." Ian Sullivan gestured upstairs. Cindy Lynn smiled at him, took the thermal box, and headed upstairs. Ian Sullivan watched her back, his gaze complex. He suddenly understood Tanya Sinclair’s coldness from the night before. At least she could heat up some herbal medicine for Vincent Hawthorne. Truth be told, as long as she didn’t poison it, it’s good enough... Vincent Hawthorne was already awake; he had an arm across his forehead, his lips still somewhat pale. His sleep hadn’t been restful. He seemed to faintly see Tanya Sinclair come in, but his eyelids felt heavy, and when he opened his eyes, no one was there... Outside the door, footsteps suddenly approached, softly stepping on the floor. Vincent Hawthorne abruptly sat up, staring at the door until a slender figure appeared in view. "President Hawthorne, you’re awake?" Cindy Lynn’s face appeared clearly before him. Vincent Hawthorne closed his eyes briefly, and the surge of adrenaline subsided, leaving him tired as he leaned back. "What are you doing here?" Cindy Lynn was somewhat helpless as she walked to his side, "Have you forgotten, President Hawthorne? You called me in the middle of the night, saying you had a stomachache and wanted some porridge." Vincent Hawthorne frowned slightly; he didn’t recall doing that. He reached for his phone beside him, opened the contacts, and glanced at it. Sure enough, at 3:40 a.m., he had a call log showing he called Cindy Lynn, with a duration of 37 seconds... Vincent Hawthorne pinched his aching brow, his voice hoarse, "Sorry, I might have been a bit out of it at the time." He really wasn’t clear-headed, otherwise he wouldn’t have called her while shouting that bitch Tanya Sinclair’s name! Cindy Lynn’s eyes softened as she smiled lightly, saying, "No need to apologize, I’m actually glad you’re thinking of me first when uncomfortable." Vincent Hawthorne: "..." He didn’t know what to say for a moment. Cindy Lynn placed the thermal box on the small table beside him, opened the lid, and the aroma of hot porridge wafted out, very enticing. Cindy Lynn scooped a spoonful, gently cooled it, and directly fed it to Vincent Hawthorne’s lips. "Try it, I’m not sure if I made it well. You’re not allowed to despise me." Her last words were spoken with a bit of a coquettish tone. Vincent Hawthorne felt this wasn’t quite right, hesitated, and didn’t immediately open his mouth. The act of feeding him porridge was too intimate, and Tanya Sinclair was still in the house... "What are you doing?!"