Sophie Sullivan didn’t know how long she had been walking. Her attention was focused entirely on her aching wrist, and she was somewhat worried.
She was pushed violently forward.
Sophie Sullivan hobbled into a dimly lit room.
Thick curtains and gauze completely covered the floor-to-ceiling windows; not even a sliver of light was able to seep in.
Inside the room, a dim yellow light lent an air of mystery.
A maid summoned two maidens and then shut the door.
The two maidens sashayed to the center of the room, toward a table covered with a dark green velvet cloth.
"What are you loitering for? Come here," the maid called out coldly.
With no choice, Sophie Sullivan moved forward and approached the table.
The maid gripped a corner of the velvet cloth and, with a flourish, yanked it away.
Upon seeing clearly what was on the table, Sophie Sullivan’s pupils contracted. She instinctively took a step back. The two maidens smirked, their laughter derisive.
The maid clapped her hands. "Let’s start."
Thomas Shannon, restless and unable to sleep, whimsically switched on the surveillance footage of Sophie Sullivan’s bedroom.
Sophie, after being tormented to exhaustion, had returned to her bedroom, taken a bath, and gone to bed early.
Little did she know, even her bedroom was under surveillance.
Every move she made was under Thomas Shannon’s control.
Her creamy white, slender legs extended from beneath her sleep gown, a silent invitation.
Thomas Shannon took a sip of his red wine, his eyes darkening. He pressed the intercom. "Bring her to my bedroom."
Five minutes later, Sophie Sullivan was ushered in.
The black bedsheet highlighted her skin, making it appear as white as snow.
Her face guarded, she watched the man in front of her warily, unsure of his intentions for bringing her here at such a time.
When faced with him, Sophie Sullivan was filled with an instinctive fear.
All her unpleasant memories since leaving the asylum were tied to him.
Facing him, Sophie Sullivan struggled to remain calm.
Thomas Shannon rose from the sofa, his tall figure approaching her step by step. His loose black sleep gown hung casually on his body, further emphasizing his menacing aura.
Sophie Sullivan stared hard at him. "Don’t come any closer."
Thomas Shannon smirked, unsure whether to laugh at her naivety or her stupidity. "You can’t possibly be naive enough to think that I would listen to you?"
Sophie Sullivan knew it well. He wouldn’t.
If he listened to her and stopped approaching, then he wouldn’t be Thomas Shannon.
A premonition of danger struck her in an instant.
"I’m so ugly, how could you possibly want me?" Sophie Sullivan clenched her fists, resorting to goading him.
For this, she did not hesitate to belittle herself.
"You are a bit ugly," Thomas Shannon said, lifting a strand of her hair to cover the horrifying half of her face, the corners of his lips curling upward.