It could only be said that they both used each other for their own purposes. Follow current novᴇls on noⅴelfire.net
Whether it was taking advantage of each other or not, what did it matter?
That night, Sophie Sullivan ate all the spicy, heavy-taste food she had been craving. Meat or vegetables, hot or spicy—she refused nothing. She ate until her little belly was round and full, so stuffed she could barely move, before finally putting down her chopsticks.
Thomas Shannon, who had long since put down his chopsticks, held Harry and stroked its fur absentmindedly. His cold eyes glanced at Sophie. "Are you the reincarnation of a starving ghost?" Her ravenous gobbling lacked any trace of feminine delicacy.
Sophie snorted. "I’m the one going under the knife tomorrow. Can’t you stop looking down on me? Show me a little care, will you?"
With a sneer, Thomas Shannon stood up, still holding Harry. "You don’t look like you need any care."
Thomas Shannon stopped beside her, lowered his head, and gazed down at her. "You really want care?"
Thomas Shannon’s lips curved into a smirk. "Follow me."
He had already left the restaurant, and Sophie followed.
They went upstairs and entered the study room.
Thomas Shannon put Harry down. The cat let out two MIAOWS and then scampered out.
As soon as Sophie stepped into the study room, Thomas Shannon closed the door and locked it.
Hearing the CLICK of the lock, suspicion immediately rose in Sophie’s heart.
"Thomas Shannon, what do you think you’re doing?"
The handsome man began to unfasten his cufflinks. "The recovery period is two weeks. During that time, you’ll need to be wrapped in gauze, which means you can’t sweat, or the wound might get infected. So, before your surgery, let’s get done what needs to be done."
Sophie retreated step by step. "Thomas Shannon, one shouldn’t engage in strenuous exercise right after a meal."
"It’s fine. I’ll be gentle."
"But I don’t want to..."
His belt unbuckled. Thomas Shannon pulled it free with one hand and tossed it to the ground.
His burning gaze locked onto her. Sophie felt like prey targeted by a fierce beast; her scalp tingled, and her legs grew weak. Under his searing gaze, she felt like a helpless prey, completely under his control, with no way to escape.
She swallowed hard, her palms sweating. "Thomas Shannon, no, your wound..."
"Don’t worry. This little wound won’t hinder me."
The man advanced, step by step, until Sophie was pressed against the desk, with no room to retreat.
Sophie pushed at the man before her. "Get out..."
"Too late." Thomas Shannon panted, crushing his lips heavily against hers.
In the end, Thomas Shannon did have some conscience; he didn’t push her too hard.
Indeed, the "exercise" had helped with digestion.
After taking a bath, Sophie went to bed early, resting up to prepare for the next day’s surgery.
That night, two people tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
One was Amelia Shaw, and the other was Minimus Hart.
Sophie Sullivan was about to have her surgery, and the two women who least wanted her to regain her looks were, at this moment, in extreme mental anguish.
Inside the manor, Amelia Shaw felt as if her hands and feet were bound, completely powerless to act.
Even with his considerable abilities, Frank Mitchell’s influence couldn’t penetrate the impregnable and heavily guarded manor.
Minimus Hart was wary of Sophie Sullivan. Since Amelia Shaw wasn’t making a move, she decided she would have to be the one to act in the end.
She needed to plan carefully and not act rashly. Otherwise, she would only startle the snake in the grass and bring harm upon herself.
That maniac was no longer who she once was; her importance in Thomas Shannon’s heart was evident to all.