Curse that Frank Mitchell! He solemnly swore to her that everything would be foolproof, and now look. He let the maniac live and return!
That night, Alia Shaw was sleepless until daybreak.
Sophie Sullivan slept until after ten o’clock in the morning.
She opened her eyes and saw Thomas Shannon still lying next to her. She reached out and pushed him. "Why haven’t you left yet?"
Thomas Shannon lifted his eyelids, his voice lazy and hoarse from just waking up. "This is my bedroom. My bed."
Sophie Sullivan closed her eyes again, muttering, "Take your hand off. It’s so heavy."
Thomas Shannon suddenly pulled her delicate body into his embrace. "Dare to dislike , huh?"
Sophie Sullivan was unbearably hot. She opened her eyes and glared at him. "Do we really have to sleep holding each other? Don’t you feel hot?"
"I don’t."
The man held her matter-of-factly, showing no intention of letting go.
With both hands propped on his chest, Sophie Sullivan stared. "What do you think you’re doing?"
"What are you panicking about?"
Thomas Shannon raised his hand and tapped her on the head, finding it amusing. Wasn’t she supposed to be fearless? Why is she panicking now when he hasn’t even done anything? It’s truly amusing. So, even Sophie Sullivan has days like this.
"Thomas Shannon, you bastard!"
"So what if I am?"
Sophie Sullivan covered her head; that bastard really hit hard. Thomas Shannon’s thin lips curved slightly. "Dare to glare at again? Want another tap?"
"If you hit again, I’ll beco an idiot!"
"You’re not much smarter when I don’t hit you."
What does that an? Is he looking down on her?
Sophie Sullivan raised her hand, feigning a counterattack, but the man intercepted it midair. She couldn’t even touch a hair on his head. Let alone tap him on the head!
They bantered and played around until noon before Sophie Sullivan finally stepped out of the bedroom.
The two of them went downstairs together. Thomas Shannon had his arm around Sophie Sullivan’s slender waist, earning him quite a few glares from her.
Alia Shaw was sitting on the sofa, arranging fresh flowers; the vase was half-full.
Hearing footsteps, she turned her head. "Thomas, you’re awake?"
Seeing Alia Shaw, images flashed through Sophie Sullivan’s mind. Besides the asylum, she didn’t know who else her enemies might be. Thomas Shannon had said the asylum was burned to ashes. Now, the only person who might want to kill her... could only be Alia Shaw. Sophie held leverage over Alia Shaw. Alia was afraid Sophie would tell Thomas Shannon what she’d done, so she must have decided to strike first.
Sophie Sullivan looked coldly at Alia Shaw. Alia’s expression was calm as she held roses, freshly picked from the flower garden by a servant. She tilted her head slightly. "Little maniac, why are you looking at like that?"
Alia Shaw raised a hand to her cheek. "What, is there sothing on my face?"
If it really was her, Sophie had to admit, she was a pretty good actress. Such an innocent act.
Sophie Sullivan’s lips curved into a cold smile. She proactively linked her arm with Thomas Shannon’s. "I’m hungry."
Thomas Shannon kept his arm around her waist and led her into the Restaurant.
As their figures disappeared from view, Alia Shaw slowly looked away, stunned. Her heart was pounding. She maintained a calm facade, but her erratic heartbeat betrayed her.
The little maniac must suspect now. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have looked at like that. And Thomas Shannon? Did he listen to that maniac and think I did it?
Alia Shaw lowered her eyelids, trying to calm her breathing and regain her composure.
Whether they suspect or not, I have ways to clear myself of responsibility. I’ve been in the manor. Who can prove I did it? They need direct evidence to suspect . Otherwise, I can just deny it and accuse that little maniac of slander.
In the retro, palace style restaurant.
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