She made all of these with her own hands. How could they be fake?
Well, just have a taste.
Thomas Shannon lowered his head, his fingertip gently scratching Harry’s chin, his sexy thin lips curling into an ambiguous smile. "Open it and see."
Sophie Sullivan stepped forward, quickly and efficiently uncovering all the dishes.
Amelia Shaw’s eyes widened in disbelief, looking at Sophie. "Maniac, are you sure all of these are edible?"
"It’s all food, so don’t waste it." Sophie took two steps back, a flawless, impervious smile on her face. "Enjoy your meal, Young Master. I won’t bother you anymore. Goodbye."
After saying that, she turned around and tried to slip away.
His low, powerful voice was like a spell.
Instantly, it rooted her to the spot.
Sophie took a deep breath. "Is there anything else, Young Master?"
Sophie suddenly felt a sense of unease. This was too abnormal; there had to be a catch... What was Thomas Shannon going to do to her now?
Charlie River coldly reminded from the side, "Didn’t you hear the Young Master’s words?"
Reluctantly, Sophie moved towards the dining table and chose the seat furthest from Thomas Shannon.
Sophie cupped a hand to her ear, pretending not to hear. "What?"
Go over? Dream on. Does he really think he can enjoy the company of two women? Keep dreaming.
Thomas Shannon didn’t mind at all. He got up and sat down next to her.
Harry’s furry little head peeked out from his embrace and meowed at her.
Its large, round eyes stared intently at her.
Amelia Shaw bit her lower lip, looking pitifully wronged.
Upon seeing this, Sophie really wanted to applaud her. Amelia’s emotional control and expression management were truly Oscar-worthy.
"You’ve had a hard day too. These... are rewards for you. Eat them all."
Thomas Shannon looked at her with an unreadable smile, his deep eyes serene and profound like a clear pool, carrying a chill that seeped deep into one’s bones.
Sophie glared at him. "What did you say?"
"Eat all these dishes." The man’s fine, thin lips uttered each word with perfect enunciation.
Sophie squeezed her eyes shut. She had really shot herself in the foot this time.
"I’m not hungry. You should eat, Young Master. These were specially prepared for you."
The word ’specially’ took on a slightly malicious tone in Thomas Shannon’s ears.
He unhurriedly picked up his chopsticks, selected a piece of something charred as black as coal, and brought it to her lips. His magnetic voice, laced with temptation, urged, "Eat."
Amelia Shaw smiled faintly, her gaze fixed earnestly on Thomas Shannon. Her voice was soft and gentle, with a tender, murmuring quality. "Thomas, why don’t I make a few dishes for you instead?"
Without turning his head, Thomas Shannon continued to stare directly at Sophie.
Sophie really wanted to take the plate of food in front of her and smash it right onto his punchable face!
"Eat." The cold voice impatiently repeated the command.
Sophie stood still, her defiant and stubborn gaze meeting his.
She was like a little lioness, baring her fangs and claws, vowing never to bow her head to a cur.
"Heh." Thomas Shannon sneered and dropped his chopsticks.
The servants were too frightened to breathe, their heads lowered.
"Won’t eat? Then starve."
Thomas Shannon got up, returned to the head of the table, his face grim. "Charlie River, have the kitchen make another dinner, and make it quick."
Upon receiving the order, the Chief Chef immediately began instructing the servants to assist as he personally took over the cooking.