SNAP.
The lighter ignited with a blue fla.
George Stanford choked. His pupils contracted, and he unconsciously reached out his hand. "Stop!"
"Are you going to call that, or not?"
Sophie Sullivan looked at him smugly. She refused to believe she couldn’t get the better of Old Mr. Stanford!
George Stanford was furious. What she held in her hand, ready to burn, was his treasure!
The surgical knives in his hand scraped loudly. George Stanford said sinisterly, "Fiona, you don’t want that ugly face of yours treated, do you?"
If his treasure is gone, her ugly face is done for too!
She can just stay ugly for the rest of her life!
He won’t treat her anymore!
Sophie Sullivan was clearly stunned for a mont. What was Old Mr. Stanford saying?
Had he actually learned to make threats too?
"Old Mr. Stanford, people can’t go back on their word! You promised Thomas Shannon you’d treat my face. You can’t renege now."
"So what if I go back on my word? What are you going to do, bite ?"
George Stanford, having grasped her weakness, imdiately leaned back against the head of the bed, unhurried.
The two surgical knives in his hand glinted, their cold light almost searing Sophie Sullivan’s eyes.
"Humph!" Sophie Sullivan threw down the dical record. "I’ll let it go this ti. But next ti, don’t you dare call Fiona again, or I swear I’ll burn your dical records."
George Stanford swiftly snatched up his dical records and snorted provocatively twice. "Touch my precious dical records again, and I’ll make you regret it!"
What was this?
Her threat had failed, and now she was being threatened in return?
Sophie Sullivan, seething with frustration, left George Stanford’s room.
She stord back to Thomas Shannon’s room. Thomas Shannon was playing with Harry, who was nestled obediently in his embrace. Seeing Sophie Sullivan enter, Harry rely let out a lazy ow by way of greeting.
"What’s wrong? You look furious."
"Thomas Shannon, Old Mr. Stanford bullied !"
Sophie Sullivan puffed out her cheeks, looking as if she had suffered a terrible injustice. Her hands, clenched into fists at her sides, made her resemble a small child who, having been bullied outside, had run ho crying to tell their parents.
The man’s long, slender fingers with their distinct joints gently stroked Harry’s fur. He lazily lifted his eyelids and asked with amusent, "How did Old Mr. Stanford bully you?"
"He refused to yield and wouldn’t call beauty."
"Heh."
Thomas Shannon chuckled. Still not giving up, huh? What a stubborn mule.
"What are you laughing at?" Sophie Sullivan belatedly realized that he, too, was a pri culprit in refusing to acknowledge her as a beauty!
"Maniac, don’t try to force things, and don’t make people speak against their conscience, understand?"
Sophie Sullivan nodded, her brow furrowed tightly. "So, you think I’m ugly too?"
Thomas Shannon lowered his head. The smile playing on the corner of his mouth deeply stung Sophie Sullivan’s eyes and her fragile heart.
Harry, being petted by his master, let out a contented ow.
The scene was utterly harmonious.
Thomas Shannon still had his head lowered when a figure suddenly appeared before him. Sophie Sullivan had climbed onto the bed and moved to face him.
Her expression was serious, as if determined to get a clear answer, leaving him no room to evade. "Tell , do you think I’m ugly too?"
In the instant their eyes t, Thomas Shannon seed to glimpse the vulnerability hidden beneath her proud and willful deanor.
Her outrageous demand to be called a beauty... in truth, she was hoping for validation, wasn’t she?
Naturally, she hoped for a complete recovery of her appearance.
"Not ugly."
Sophie Sullivan secretly breathed a sigh of relief, yet she didn’t feel genuinely happy. His tone and the look in his eyes seed far too perfunctory.
It was as if he’d just said it casually, not because he genuinely thought she wasn’t ugly.
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