The maids’ shock was written all over their faces.
That maniac... She’s going to defy the heavens! Even the Young Master has been subdued by her; what can’t she do?
Meanwhile, the sympathetic gazes of the maids fell on Amelia Shaw, who had been sitting on the sofa, waiting the entire morning.
There’s no harm without comparison; nowadays, Thomas Shannon’s doting on the maniac far exceeded his affection for Amelia Shaw.
It seemed Amelia Shaw’s position was gradually being replaced by the maniac.
She accidentally let a thorn on the flower stem prick her finger.
Amelia Shaw suddenly came to her senses. She lowered her head, looked at her bleeding finger, and stared blankly.
That scene was incredibly jarring.
Wasn’t Thomas Shannon in love with her?
Why... now that she had returned to his side, did he disregard her and favor another woman instead?
Was this his revenge against her?
If this was his revenge, then she had already been punished; she was already suffering.
The palace-vintage restaurant was luxurious and grand.
Thomas Shannon set Sophie Sullivan down. The servant placed lunch on the dining table, item by item, then bowed, withdrew, and stood aside, head lowered, awaiting orders.
Sophie Sullivan looked resentfully at the soup and jutted her delicate chin. "Thomas Shannon, I want soup."
Harry appeared from nowhere, and with a MEOW, climbed precisely into Thomas Shannon’s embrace.
The tabby stripes on his head were quite striking. He lifted his claws and scratched at Thomas Shannon’s clothes a couple of times.
Thomas Shannon grabbed him by the scruff of his neck with one hand, frowning slightly. "What are you acting crazy for?"
Harry, suspended in mid-air, let out a pitiful MEOW, kicked his small paws a couple of times, and gave in.
"Thomas Shannon, I want soup."
Sophie Sullivan turned her head, pursed her lips, and puffed her cheeks like a spoiled child demanding candy. "I want soup."
In one hand, he held the naughty Harry; beside him sat the petulant child.
Thomas Shannon’s brow furrowed. He gave her a deep, cold stare, then began to ladle soup for her.
Sophie Sullivan perfectly demonstrated what it meant to give an inch and take a mile.
A bowl of delicious hot soup was placed before her. She tilted her head slightly, a faint smile playing on the corner of her mouth, her voice soft and cloyingly sweet as she wheedled, "My hand is so sore. Thomas Shannon, can you feed me?"
Thomas Shannon: "..."
Harry stared at Sophie Sullivan with wide, round cat eyes, unblinking.
Sophie Sullivan was about to give up when she suddenly smelled a strange odor. "Is something burning?" The latest_epɪ_sodes are on_the novel⁂fire.net
The servant reacted quickly. "It must be Miss Shaw’s soup..."
At the same time, Amelia Shaw also heard the servant’s remark and quickly ran into the kitchen.
The soup she had painstakingly prepared was already burnt.
The acrid smell of something burnt spread through the air.
Amelia Shaw brought in the cola chicken wings she had baked herself, calling out timidly, "Thomas, I baked some chicken wings. Please try them. I made soup for you, but it unfortunately burned... I’ll be sure to watch the heat more carefully next time."
Sophie Sullivan raised her head and looked at Amelia Shaw. Amelia, eyes brimming with tears, was looking at Thomas Shannon.
Her vulnerable and pitiable appearance was truly enough to make anyone’s heart ache with sympathy.
It was unknown if Thomas Shannon would pity her.
Thomas Shannon didn’t speak. Amelia Shaw bit her lower lip and placed the platter of glistening chicken wings on the dining table.
She put away the tray and stood her ground, her voice trembling with a humble plea, "Thomas, I made this especially for you. Could you please try it?"