Her mind was blank as she struggled to process the news.
The hospital was on fire... and it had happened after she left.
Did this an that if I hadn’t left the hospital, I would be in danger now?
Maybe, I might even die.
Sophie Sullivan looked helplessly at Thomas Shannon, anxiously gripping his arm. "What about George Stanford? Is he okay?"
Her primary concern now was George Stanford; if sothing happened to him, her face would be ruined.
So, George Stanford must be fine!
He absolutely must be!
Thomas Shannon’s brows furrowed. He looked at the worried Sophie Sullivan with a complex gaze, his voice low and soothing, laced with a touch of reassurance. "I’ve already sent people to search for him. George Stanford isn’t a fool; he should be able to escape unscathed."
This was only the best-case scenario. The worst outco would be...
"Really?"
Sophie Sullivan still gripped his arm tightly, her voice soft and barely trembling.
Thomas Shannon nodded.
She now seed as vulnerable as a delicate porcelain doll in a display window, one that could shatter with a single touch.
Aside from comforting her, Thomas Shannon had no other choice.
The bed was large, and Thomas Shannon patted the spot beside him. "Co up. Lie with for a while."
Sophie Sullivan shook her head. Her mind was a ss, and she didn’t want to sleep.
"Co up. Don’t make say it a third ti."
"But I’m not tired..."
"Or do you want to have them stop searching for George Stanford now?"
The threat was highly effective.
Sophie Sullivan lay down beside him, her head resting on his arm. She looked worriedly at his injuries. "You... are you okay?"
"This little wound doesn’t bother ."
Thomas Shannon tilted his head and kissed her full, smooth forehead. "Don’t worry. I said I’d heal your face, and I will."
The worst outco, at most, would be George Stanford’s death.
Even if George Stanford was gone, he would find another doctor to repair her face.
It wasn’t just her who longed for her appearance to be restored; he, even more so, longed to see her complete and whole again.
Alia Shaw tried calling Frank Mitchell’s mobile phone again but received no answer.
Frustrated, she picked up a pillow and furiously pounded it a few tis.
"This is infuriating! What a good-for-nothing who only sses things up!"
"Not once has anything been successful!"
"Ah... useless!"
She growled quietly, venting for a while before tossing the pillow away.
There was a noise in the corridor. She straightened her clothes before leaving the bedroom.
Seeing Charlie River, she was shocked.
Had Thomas Shannon returned?
He must have.
Charlie River was Thomas Shannon’s personal bodyguard and assistant. Wherever Charlie River was, Thomas Shannon must also be there.
That ant Thomas Shannon had genuinely returned.
Did he co back specifically to see that maniac? Did he know she had surgery today, so he deliberately rushed back today?
Charlie River stood at the entrance of the study room, solemnly instructing the man in black to guard it and prevent anyone from approaching.
He entered the study with a briefcase in his hand.
About ten minutes later, he finally ca out.
The man in black stood by the study door, guarding it strictly.
This scene couldn’t help but make her think of the design drawings...
Could it be that what Charlie River had carried inside was the design drawing Frank Mitchell wanted?
Alia Shaw hurriedly descended the stairs, caught up to Charlie River, and called out to him.
Charlie River turned around, his face expressionless. "Miss Shaw, is there sothing you need?"
"Has Thomas Shannon returned?" Alia Shaw’s lips curved into a gentle arc. "Where is Thomas Shannon now?"
"Young Master is in the dical office."
User Comments
0 comments from readers