"Vincent, I only want you." Cindy raised her tear-streaked face, gazing at him deeply, "You like me too, don’t you? You said, in your heart, I’m special..." Vincent Hawthorne’s Adam’s apple bobbed, reason tearing at him. He replied hoarsely, "Cindy, it’s not right..." "Why not?" Cindy Lynn brazenly moved closer, lowered her head, and kissed his chin. Feeling his shivering, heated breath, she felt encouraged. Her soft lips wandered downwards and kissed his Adam’s apple. Vincent’s muscles tightened abruptly, snapping the thread of his sanity! His pupils plunged into the depths of desire, his breathing grew heavier, and he suddenly pressed Cindy onto the hospital bed. Cindy’s wound began to throb painfully, yet her eyes were alluring, both painful and sweet. Tonight, she intended to become Vincent’s woman completely! "Vincent, I truly love you... what Tanya can do, I can do too. What she can’t give you, I can..." Her tone was enticing, seductively luring him, pulling Vincent’s hand inside her clothing. The moment the man’s large hand touched her softness, Cindy shivered from the heat. She finally realized something was amiss with Vincent tonight. "Vincent, you’re so warm..." But the next second, her clothes were roughly torn open, several buttons flying off, Vincent pressing her down, without affection, without gentle foreplay. His large hands glided over her exposed smooth skin, as though feverishly seeking solace in her body. Though it wasn’t as tender as she’d hoped, at least she could achieve her desired outcome. Cindy gladly cooperated, reaching to undo Vincent’s belt. ’Click’ went the sound. Vincent suddenly gripped Cindy’s neck, forcefully pinning her on the bed. His breathing was rough, surveying the alluring face of the woman beneath him with authority, her bashful eyes locked onto his, softly calling his name: "Vincent..." Vincent stared at Cindy, but another face surfaced in his mind, Tanya Sinclair’s face. She wouldn’t take the initiative to undo his belt, even if she sneakily kissed him occasionally, her face would turn red. She wouldn’t initiate. In intimate matters, she was naively led by him, never boldly seducing him . Just a little teasing would make her shrink back under the covers, like a little bunny, only her eyes peeking out, shyly watching him. But she’d worry about his displeasure, her small hand reaching out from beneath the covers, pitifully tugging at his clothes, her usually calm and quiet voice tinged with a touch of desire and shyness. She’d say: ’Vincent, I’m scared...’ Vincent squeezed his eyes shut hard, suddenly flipping Cindy over, his large hand pressing on the back of Cindy’s head, forbidding her from turning. He moved over her, his burning lips kissing her beautiful hollow, his gaze hazy, desire fully unleashed, his hand gradually moving downward. "Mm..." Cindy whimpered, her wound aching sharply. Unsure of Vincent’s preferences, but she was willing to cooperate, just get through tonight... "You’re so beautiful..." he whispered, kissing her exquisite earlobe, his strained, hoarse voice calling out, not her name, "Tanya." Once immersed in desire, her eyes instantly cleared, gripping the sheets tightly, jealousy and anger burning within her! She could tolerate Vincent’s confusion, but he could not mistake her for that wretch, Tanya Sinclair! "Vincent. I hurt..." Cindy grabbed Vincent’s descending hand, slowly turning her face around, eyes full of pitiful tears. Vincent’s desire-drenched eyes cooled slightly upon seeing her face clearly, frowning slightly, his gaze drifting downwards to see the knife wound bandage on Cindy’s abdomen, faintly red. He pressed his aching temples, getting off the bed to compose himself. "I’m sorry, I’ll call a doctor over." Her clothing was torn by him, already unwearable, Vincent pulled up the blanket, covering Cindy’s nearly naked upper body. This content belongs to novel※fire.net He pressed the bedside bell. "Medical staff will arrive soon, I’m leaving for now." "Vincent..." Cindy held onto him, reluctant to let go. That gaze softened his heart. Vincent patted her head, softly reassuring, "I’ll find time to bring Joy to see you." With that, he gently withdrew his hand, leaving without looking back. The moment the ward door closed again, the tenderness in Cindy’s eyes faded, hatred and jealousy spiraling out of control. She tore off the obstructive bandage on her wrist, revealing skin completely free of wrist cutting marks. Cindy picked up her phone, dialing her mother, Shelly Sullivan. "Mom, Vincent left me!" Her eyes filled with icy malice, "It’s all that whore Tanya Sinclair’s fault, I want her dead!" Vincent headed straight to a nearby hotel, getting a room. He went straight to the bathroom, letting cold water pour over him, finally finding some relief. Vincent pushed the water from his face with both hands, slicking his hair back. The mirror reflected his handsome face, eyes still burning. Vincent belatedly realized it was that bowl of soup from Grandma that was the issue. Tanya also drank it, why was she fine? Vincent furrowed his brows. Then he remembered the handkerchief Tanya threw away, knowing her understanding of medicine, she might have realized the soup was off and hadn’t drunk it! ... Knowing he’d drunk spiked soup, she still let him go to Cindy? Vincent’s face grew colder, two flames burned uncomfortably in his chest, with no outlet, he suddenly punched the wall heavily, knuckles bloodied. Half an hour later, Vincent emerged from the bathroom in a bathrobe. Jonah Rivers had already left a set of new clothes at the door. Vincent brought the bag in, tossing it casually on the sofa. He walked to the balcony, pulling out a cigarette, shielding the wind with one hand, lighting it. The night outside was vast, Vincent silently gazed at the distant neon, remembering the conversation in the ward between Shelly Sullivan and Cindy, his features obscured by the night, deep and somber. After finishing the cigarette, he called lawyer Keith Abbott. "Cindy’s mother, Shelly Sullivan, said she visited Claire Walsh today, and Claire admitted she saw Tanya Sinclair yesterday, can you check with the hospital if this is true?" He had Keith Abbott handle this case, Keith had spent the entire day navigating between the hospital, police station, and court, familiar with Claire Walsh’s situation. And Keith was his man, with him for years, Vincent trusted he wouldn’t be easily bought. In less than half an hour, Keith Abbott called back. "President Hawthorne, I checked, it’s true! At that time, besides the doctor and nurse, there was also a cop present, it couldn’t be faked! Claire did briefly admit she saw her yesterday. But her mental state was extremely unstable, her words can’t serve as evidence." Vincent took a deep drag of his cigarette, the ashtray in front already filled with butts. His deeply ingrained features were obscured by smoke, exuding chilling coldness. "... I understand, let this matter be." Vincent ordered coolly. Keith was momentarily stunned, "President Hawthorne, don’t you want Claire Walsh to end up locked up for life?" Vincent grew impatient, "I said, let this go!" He hung up directly, snuffing the unfinished cigarette in the ashtray with a cold expression. ... Could it really be Tanya Sinclair? Vincent’s mind conjured the woman’s cold, detached face. ’Vincent Hawthorne, I truly don’t love you anymore...’ Her indifferent voice unexpectedly exploded in his mind. Vincent, thoroughly exasperated, directly sent a message in the group.