Mr. Hawthorne, Your Wife Wants a Divorce Again-Chapter 1003: The Bride’s Duty

Looking at the figure standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, a figure that shouldn’t even be here, Ann Vaughn felt her heart seemingly stop for a moment, her pupils slightly contracting.

The white figure standing by the window turned around, those ruby-like eyes locked directly onto Ann’s slightly startled face.

Suddenly, the corners of his lips curved up.

The nearly blood-red color of his lips made his already pale skin appear even more sickly, as sharp vampire fangs slowly scraped past that blood-red in an inexplicable allure.

It was as if, in an instant, clusters of black thorny roses grew around him, stunningly beautiful yet extremely dangerous.

"Long time no see, my dear," Warren Vance spoke softly.

Ann Vaughn subconsciously took half a step back, her heart nearly jumping into her throat, "How can it be you?!"

"That’s a good question." Warren lowered his head and chuckled, stepping towards Ann Vaughn, slowly leaving behind the night scene with the full moon hanging high outside the window.

Dark as pitch, stark white, yet making it hard for people to look directly.

Ann wanted to escape, but her feet felt like they were nailed to the ground, unable to move, watching helplessly as Warren closed in on her.

He soon stood before her, cold fingers lifting her chin, forcing her to look at him, his dark red eyes extremely obscure.

"Why couldn’t it be me?"

An unprecedented sense of oppression from Warren swept over Ann, making her entire body tense, fear flashing in her wide-open eyes, leaving her unable to speak for a long time.

When interacting with Warren before, she had known he was always pretending in front of her.

Gentleness was a facade, kindness was a facade, even his patience with her was a facade.

Underneath his gentle exterior was a madness capable of stirring storms with ease in the midst of laughter and banter.

"That waitress earlier... was that your arrangement too?" Ann turned her gaze away from his, tightly knitting her delicate brows.

"Does it matter?" Warren squinted, slowly letting go of her delicate chin, his cold fingertips trailing upward, stopping at the corner of her right eye, "Have you fallen for him again?"

As soon as he spoke, Ann felt a burning sensation where he touched, followed by a sharp, needle-like pain.

She hurriedly stepped back, avoiding Warren’s touch, her slender fingers touching the corner of her eye, but there she felt a small round dot.

She took out her phone, and, sure enough, saw that the vermillion mole that had disappeared had grown back once more.

"What did you do to me?" Ann was plagued by a headache.

Warren let out a low laugh, his expression lacking any warmth, "A vampire bride can only love a vampire. If you break your vow and fall for another man, the curse hidden in your bloodline will form into this vermillion mole."

"When this vermillion mole spreads over your body, your life will end."

What the hell?!

Ann’s back instantly turned cold, her eyes filled with horror as she looked at Warren, "How did I offend you? Why are you tormenting me like this?"

At first, she thought this vermillion mole would just leave her disfigured, but never imagined it would cost her life!

How deep a grudge could this be?

"As a vampire bride, you must fulfill the duties of a bride." Warren leaned forward slightly, the dark red in his eyes reflecting Ann’s furrowed brows, his voice lazily indifferent, "This is your inherent obligation."

Nothing in this world happens without a cause.

All reasons and causes are but predestined.

Yet Ann found it baffling, a throbbing pain in her temples, "No, Warren, let me tell you, a forced love won’t bear sweet fruit. Even if you force me to be your bride, without feelings between us, there will be no good outcome even if we’re together..."

"That’s my concern, why should you worry?" Warren asked languidly.

"..." There’s simply no way to communicate.

"Warren," Ann pursed her red lips and asked earnestly, "Do you like me?"

"Hmm?" 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

"Thinking of me makes your heart race, you subconsciously pay attention to what I’m doing, what I like, even speaking a word more with me can secretly make you happy for half a day..." Ann asked, word by word, "Or have you ever fantasized about our future?"

Warren frowned slightly, falling into silence.

...So this is what’s called liking?

Seeing his prolonged silence, Ann knew she guessed right, and couldn’t help but feel a bit relieved inside.

"You don’t want me as your bride out of love or affection, but because you’re used to having everything your way, everyone succumbing to your wishes. And I didn’t. You just want me to submit to you."

For some reason, these words came out of Ann’s mouth almost without a pause, as if they were always there, waiting to be said.

Warren snapped out from a moment of distraction, his gaze gradually turning dangerous upon hearing Ann’s heartfelt words.

"You think I merely want you to submit?" he stepped closer to Ann.

Ann tried to back away but was caught by the wrist, suddenly pulled into his arms.

The icy breath brushing over her made Ann tense all over, and she immediately wanted to break free from him.

"You’ve been bewitched by him; you need me to help clear your mind."

...What does that mean?

Ann’s chest tightened, but before she could respond, she heard Warren speak again, his enchanting voice seemingly trapping one’s mind invisibly.

"Annie, look into my eyes."

Ann’s gaze trembled slightly, almost defenselessly lifting her eyes to look into his.

"Good girl." Warren’s lips curved, then he lowered his head, his cold lips slowly getting closer to her pale neck, revealing two sharp fangs, pressingly against her fragile skin.

As if with just a slight force, he could destroy this fragility.

Ann had no reaction whatsoever.

Gradually, Warren’s blood-red eyes darkened completely, as if all the blood in his body was boiling, longing to pierce Ann’s neck and draw out her sweet, enticing blood.

"Bang—"

Suddenly, a silver bullet ripped through the air, carrying a terrifying killing intent, directly aiming at Warren!

Warren’s eyes slightly narrowed, quickly dodging to the side with Ann in his arms!

But it was too late, the silver bullet still grazed his cheek, leaving a bloodstain on his pale skin.

Warren nonchalantly brushed over the bloodstain with his fingertip, then licked the blood from the corner of his lips, his already blood-red lips now shimmering as if coated in water, obscenely beautiful.

"Quite a bold move." Warren’s gaze lazily shifted forward, to the gun pointed directly at him, still with a smile on his evilly beautiful face.

Behind the black muzzle, Cyrus Hawthorne, with sharp brows and a stern look, thin lips pressed into a line, made his already cold face appear razor-sharp, forbidding any confrontation.