The term "white-eyed wolf" was probably what Charlie River had repeated most tonight.
Sophie Sullivan took a deep breath, went to the bedside, and reached out to take over from Charlie River. "Let me do it."
Charlie River snorted coldly. "At least you have some conscience."
Sophie unbuttoned Thomas Shannon’s shirt, her fingertips brushing against his scalding chest.
It felt as if she had been struck by an electric current.
The tingling sensation spread from her fingers all the way to her Heart.
It was a strange sensation. Sophie subconsciously withdrew her hand, while Charlie River, still beside them, complained, "Hurry up! Can’t you see the Young Master is uncomfortable?"
Sophie’s face flushed inexplicably, and she growled in annoyance, "Can you shut up?"
If it weren’t for the Young Master, I would have dragged her out and taught her a lesson, he thought.
"I can take care of him here. You can go now," Sophie said.
"No, I need to supervise, in case you have any ill intentions towards the Young Master..."
Sophie suddenly turned her head. Is Charlie River paranoid? she thought. "We’ve already slept in the same bed. If I had any ill intentions, I would’ve acted on them long ago. Why would I wait until now?"
Charlie River’s face was solemn and unyielding.
Sophie ignored him, lowered her head, and patted Thomas Shannon’s face. "Thomas Shannon, wake up!"
"What are you doing?" Charlie River gripped her shoulder with one hand, his hold strong enough to feel like it could crush her shoulder blade.
Sophie Sullivan endured the pain. "Since you won’t leave, then let Thomas Shannon personally tell you to get out."
Charlie River’s gaze was complicated. He stared at her for a long time, and only after seeming to confirm that she wouldn’t harm Thomas Shannon did he slowly release his grip. Before leaving, he didn’t forget to warn sternly, "Take good care of the Young Master, or you will bear the consequences."
Once the bedroom door shut, Sophie raised her hand and rubbed her shoulder. Just as I thought. A creep is always surrounded by other creeps, she muttered. With a master like Thomas Shannon, what else could you expect from his subordinates!
Thomas Shannon, completely drunk, had a faint blush dusting his handsome face. His thin lips were lightly pressed together. His deep features, usually so sharp and cold, seemed to lose their edge, softened by the lamplight. Even asleep, he was still stunningly handsome.
Seeing him sleeping uncomfortably, Sophie considered for a moment and then reached out to unbutton his shirt.
Just as one button came undone, the sleeping man suddenly shot out a hand and grabbed her wrist.
His sharp eyes, glinting coldly, stared directly at her.
Sophie was taken aback and a little surprised. "Thomas Shannon, are you awake?"
"Let go," the man’s voice was cold and devoid of warmth. It carried a deep hostility, an eerie, almost bizarre gloom.
Sophie frowned, lowering her head to try and pry his fingers off. "Thomas Shannon, what’s wrong with you? You’re hurting me."
Instead of letting go, Thomas Shannon tightened his grip. "Who are you?"
Who am I? she fumed internally. I’m a Nine Heavens Fairy, descended to the mortal realm to serve this drunkard!
"Thomas Shannon, let go of me! It’s not like I’m going to eat you!" Unable to bear it any longer, Sophie growled in exasperation.
The man’s deep, cold eyes showed a flicker of hesitation and confusion. After a moment, he gradually loosened his grip.
Quickly, Sophie unfastened his belt. Just as the man was about to close his eyes again, his pupils snapped open. "Don’t touch me!"
"Oh, stop acting so pure! It’s not like I haven’t touched you before!"
I never knew a drunk man could be so difficult, Sophie thought. He’s practically an idiot! Thomas Shannon was the world’s biggest idiot!
Sophie hopped off the bed, went into the bath chamber, grabbed a towel, wet it, and wrung out the excess water before coming out.