"If I really dared to drug you, why wouldn’t I just do it directly to you?"
Amelia Shaw gave a bitter smile. "Thomas, wouldn’t it be more direct for me to get what I want by drugging you?"
"You mean, the maniac drugged herself and then framed you?" Thomas Shannon’s eyes were filled with ridicule, a cold, slight smile touching his lips.
Amelia Shaw shook her head. "I’m not saying who framed me; I just won’t admit to something I didn’t do."
"Do you admit to attempting to assassinate the maniac?"
The color drained from Amelia Shaw’s face in an instant.
"You had a motive and more than enough reason. Are you still claiming to be innocent?"
Amelia Shaw lifted her hand, covering the hole smashed into her forehead. Enduring the dizzy sensation, she knelt on the carpet and crawled to his feet, step by step.
With one hand, she clung tightly to his sleep gown. "Thomas, I really am innocent. You have to believe me!"
"Still not giving up?" Thomas Shannon scoffed. "When you drugged the maniac, it showed that you realized I only wanted a pure woman. As long as the maniac was tarnished, I would abandon her, and then you would stand a chance."
"No, that’s not true, Thomas. I never thought that way..."
"Never?" As though he had just heard a massive joke, Thomas Shannon forcefully pried her hand from his sleep gown.
Amelia Shaw turned ashen with pain, her body shivering slightly. "It hurts..." Her fingers felt as if he were about to snap them.
"Young Master, I’m here!"
Thomas Shannon, looking impatient, stood up. From a lofty position, he looked down on Amelia Shaw, who was kneeling at his feet, "This time, I will not be lenient with you."
"Thomas, I really am innocent..."
Amelia Shaw reached out her hand, trying to grab his leg. But before she could touch him, he kicked her away.
"Charlie River, take her to the dark cell for some introspection!"
As Charlie River dragged Amelia Shaw away, she burst into a painful wail, "Thomas, don’t treat me ... It really wasn’t me..." Vaguely, she saw Minimus Hart laughing. Could it be her?
Sophie Sullivan had slept until the next afternoon.
When she woke up, her head was groggy, and the absurdity of the previous night surfaced in her mind.
Lifting her hand to her forehead, she sighed inwardly; the doctor’s medicine was alarmingly potent!
By her ear, a familiar masculine voice suddenly rang out.
Sophie Sullivan lowered her hand and turned her head, only to find Thomas Shannon’s flawless face inches away from hers. His dark eyes mirrored a tiny version of herself.
She looked somewhat astonished.
"What are you doing here?"
"If I’m not here, who would you hope to see?" As he spoke, Thomas Shannon’s face had darkened.
Had Thomas Shannon taken her act from last night seriously?
Sophie Sullivan spontaneously snuggled into his embrace. Under the silk quilt, both were stark naked.
Skin against skin, their warmth mingling.
"You saved me last night, didn’t you?" Her voice was now slightly hoarse when she asked.
"Hmm," replied Thomas Shannon, seemingly very satisfied with her initiative of seeking comfort in his arms.
He tightened his arm around her soft and smooth body, drawing her closer.
The little maniac in his arms remained silent for a long time. Thomas Shannon lifted her chin with one hand, forcing her to look at him. "Are you scared?"
In her eyes, Thomas Shannon saw a hint of fear that, though well concealed, still couldn’t hide completely.