'This man's heart can't be made of flesh and blood!'
Faye Vaughn lay quietly in Wyatt Hawthorne's arms, ranting internally.
For the past three years, she had tried it all—sweetness, flirtation, playing hard to get, obedience, rebellion.
Wyatt Hawthorne hadn't been moved in the slightest.
Sometimes, his affection level would even drop.
The difficulty of winning him over was nothing short of hellish!
Just as Faye Vaughn was racking her brain for any weakness Wyatt Hawthorne might have, a phone rang.
The caller ID read: Vivian Windsor.
"Okay, I'll be over in a bit."
Wyatt Hawthorne was brief, hanging up after just one sentence.
Faye Vaughn lifted her small face from his embrace and asked softly, "Are you leaving?"
She was still weak. Her slender shoulders trembled, and her skin felt cold to the touch.
Wyatt Hawthorne curled his finger and stroked her lips, as if placating a small pet. "Be good. Just rest up here at the hospital."
He rolled over and got out of bed.
Faye Vaughn reached out, her fingertips gently tugging at his sleeve.
It lasted only a second before she let go.
"I'll wait for you to come back," Faye Vaughn said softly.
"Mm."
Wyatt Hawthorne was very satisfied with her obedience.
'She loves me, but she knows her place.'
This was the reason he had kept her by his side for so long, with no plans to replace her.
...
Faye Vaughn had just been given a detoxification shot that contained a sedative. A wave of drowsiness washed over her, and she quickly fell into a deep sleep.
She slept until the middle of the night, when she groggily sensed someone by her bed.
"Nurse, I'm thirsty..."
Faye Vaughn subconsciously assumed it was the nurse.
A glass was brought to her lips.
With her eyes still closed, she propped herself up and drank from the rim of the glass.
She had barely taken a sip when a cool, refined male voice suddenly sounded by her ear—
"Miss Vaughn, your awareness is rather low."
Faye Vaughn's eyes snapped open in shock.
It was the Hawthorne family's second son, Vincent Hawthorne!
"I heard Miss Vaughn was injured and hospitalized, so I came to see you."
Vincent Hawthorne's tone was gentle, as if he had genuinely come to visit a patient.
Faye Vaughn clutched the blanket and sat up, her fair little face darkening slightly. "Second Young Master, a man and a woman alone in the middle of the night... this isn't appropriate, is it?"
"Are you afraid my older brother will find out?"
Vincent Hawthorne smiled faintly, the gaze behind his glasses deep and unreadable. "Perhaps you've already heard. My brother is getting married soon."
Faye Vaughn narrowed her eyes.
'I get it.'
Second Young Master Hawthorne hadn't come to see her in the middle of the night because he couldn't sleep; it was because the woman he loved, Vivian Windsor, was about to get married.
He appeared calm on the surface, but he was probably going mad with anguish on the inside.
"Miss Vaughn, come somewhere with me."
Vincent Hawthorne took out his phone and made a swift bank transfer. "Two hundred thousand for one hour."
Faye Vaughn heard the pleasant chime of a new deposit.
This was their usual arrangement.
She played the part of his idealized love, and he paid for her services.
But it was two in the morning. 'He's a little crazy.'
...
Vincent Hawthorne took her to the top floor of his law firm.
It was Faye Vaughn's first time here.
The entire floor had been converted into a luxurious penthouse apartment for his private residence.
"Miss Vaughn, follow me."
Vincent Hawthorne was refined and elegant as he led the way.
They arrived at a room in the very back.
"Please, come in."
Vincent Hawthorne opened the door, gesturing for her to enter.
Faye Vaughn stepped inside and, despite being mentally prepared, was still taken aback.
'The very definition of a well-dressed monster.'
The Second Young Master of the Hawthorne family was a prime example!
The room was covered with photos of Vivian Windsor, and the closet was filled with clothes from the luxury brand she usually liked to wear.
The most outrageous part was a specially equipped wall.
It was covered with all sorts of restraints and BDSM paraphernalia.
"Wear this. It's a dress from C's latest collection."
Vincent Hawthorne walked to the closet and personally selected a white dress.
Faye Vaughn couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh. "Don't tell me you want me to change into this so I can be locked in this room, as if you've managed to keep the person you truly love."
Vincent Hawthorne's expression turned cold in an instant. "Miss Vaughn, you've overstepped."
Faye Vaughn sighed softly. "Second Young Master, it's no wonder you can't win over Eldest Miss Windsor."
Vincent Hawthorne's handsome face was utterly frigid. "I suggest you shut your mouth right now."
Unconcerned, Faye Vaughn shook her head.
She slowly walked over to a single armchair and sat down. "Does Miss Windsor enjoy being imprisoned? You should know, girls don't like to be treated this way."
Vincent Hawthorne's dark eyes narrowed behind his glasses, a nearly frantic heat hidden beneath his cold, gloomy demeanor.
At this moment, Faye Vaughn was so, so much like... her.
Calm, elegant, and unfazed by the situation.
"Before you learn to love someone else, you should learn how to love yourself."
Faye Vaughn pointed to Vincent Hawthorne's unconsciously clenched fist. There were dried bloodstains on his knuckles.
It wasn't hard to guess that he had smashed something to vent his anger before coming to the hospital to find her.
"She said that once..."
Vincent Hawthorne froze for a moment, whispering softly.
"Do you have a first-aid kit here?"
Faye Vaughn pretended not to hear his muttering and seamlessly continued her act. "Your hand is injured. If you don't treat it, it'll get infected."
Almost out of habit, Vincent Hawthorne obeyed, turning to find the first-aid kit.
He and Vivian Windsor had played together since they were children.
She had always played the role of the older sister, giving the orders.
In her eyes, it seemed he would always be just a little brother.
"Come here."
Faye Vaughn took the first-aid kit and gestured for Vincent Hawthorne to come closer.
The man, who stood over six feet tall, obediently squatted beside the armchair and showed her the back of his injured hand.
"Don't you dare get hurt like this again, you hear me?"
Faye Vaughn disinfected his wound with iodine, chiding him with a hint of reproach. "You may not feel the pain, but someone else's heart will ache for you."
Vincent Hawthorne's head snapped up, his gaze intense and alert. "How did you know she would say that?"
Faye Vaughn didn't flinch, answering matter-of-factly, "Because that's what I think, and I'm guessing she would think the same."
'Of course not.'
'It's because I have the system.'
'The system may be useless and disappear from time to time, but at least I've learned some confidential information from it.'
"Does it hurt?"
Faye Vaughn acted nonchalant, blowing gently on his wound before applying some ointment.
"It doesn't hurt."
Vincent Hawthorne's voice was a little hoarse.
This scene was so much like that time when he was seventeen. He had hurt his hand playing basketball, and she had put medicine on it for him.
Faye Vaughn applied a bandage for him and smiled faintly. "There. Try not to get it wet today."
Vincent Hawthorne gave a low "Mm."
Faye Vaughn glanced above his head.
Affection: 37%.
It went up by one point.
'Tonight's "overtime" wasn't for nothing.'
Just as Faye Vaughn was feeling satisfied, her phone suddenly rang.
She looked at the screen—it was a call from Wyatt Hawthorne!
Faye Vaughn hesitated. 'Should I answer it?'
"A call from my brother?"
Vincent Hawthorne's voice returned to its usual iciness, as if he had been snapped back to cold, cruel reality.
A smirk played on his lips. "Afraid to answer? How about I answer it for you?"
Faye Vaughn ignored him and pressed the answer button. "Mr. Hawthorne?"
Wyatt Hawthorne's deep, frosty voice came through the receiver. "Where are you?"
The three simple words were laced with anger.
Faye Vaughn's heart dropped.
'This is bad.'
'He knows I left the hospital with someone.'