Alia Shaw tiptoed closer, trying to eavesdrop on their conversation.
"Did the Young Master really find a doctor to fix that maniac’s face?"
"You bet... I heard he went through a lot of trouble to convince the doctor."
"The Young Master dotes on that maniac so much now. If... if her face is restored, wouldn’t the Young Master...?"
"That’s right. I’m already prepared for that maniac becoming our mistress. You better be careful too and serve her diligently. Don’t give her any handle against you."
The maid nodded fearfully. "You’re right. That maniac really holds a grudge. If she’s even slightly displeased, she’ll complain to the Young Master. Then it’ll be us who suffer the consequences."
After they finished whispering, the two maidens turned around and were startled to see Alia Shaw lost in thought.
"Mi-Miss Shaw, what are you doing here?"
"Miss Shaw, when did you arrive? And how did you walk so quietly?"
Alia Shaw snapped out of her thoughts and smiled faintly. "I just arrived. I wanted to find sothing to eat."
"Oh, good." The maid’s expression relaxed, and she quickly left the kitchen.
Alia Shaw watched the two maidens hastening away, then opened the refrigerator. Holding a bottle of milk, she lowered her gaze in thought: Had Thomas Shannon really hired a doctor to fix that maniac’s face?
If that’s true... then my crisis is imminent.
Those two maidens were right. Thomas Shannon dotes on that maniac so much now; once her hideous face is restored, wouldn’t she be even more favored?
At that point, it wouldn’t be impossible for her to beco the mistress.
She clenched the bottle of milk tightly, her expression darkening. Maniac, don’t even think of getting ahead of ! Never!
Thomas Shannon gave George Stanford his number so he could be contacted at any ti.
「Back at the hospital.」
George Stanford specifically cleared his schedule three days later for the surgery, reserving that day’s slot for that maniac. After making the arrangents, he specifically called Thomas Shannon to inform him, since Thomas was the employer, after all.
The call didn’t go through. He pursed his lips in disdain. "TSK TSK. Young people these days, why do they all have this bad habit of not answering their phones? Terrible, just terrible..."
「On the third day.」
George Stanford finally got through to Thomas Shannon’s mobile phone.
"Young Master Shannon, this is George Stanford..."
The person who answered the phone froze. William Guillen grumbled, "Old Mr. Stanford, what on earth do you want, calling at this hour?"
"Of course, it’s about—"
"If it’s nothing critically important, hang up now!"
George Stanford had long found William Guillen disagreeable, especially since William was Old Mr. Guillen’s son, which only intensified his dislike. He snapped back, "Why is it you, you little brat? Where’s Young Master Shannon? Let him take the call! I can’t be bothered talking to a whelp like you; it gives a headache!"
On the other end of the line, a deafening explosion sounded.
Even through the phone, George Stanford felt his eardrums throb with pain.
The next second, the call disconnected.
He frowned and looked at his phone; the call had ended.
What happened on their end? What was that incredibly clear and deafening explosion?
Sophie Sullivan calmly prepared for her surgery, scheduled for the next day, and went to bed early.
She didn’t know if her restlessness was due to the upcoming surgery, which made her both nervous and excited, or if it was sothing else entirely. In any case, she didn’t sleep well that night.
She felt groggy and muddled, and her sleep quality was terrible.
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