Charlie River was expressionless. He waved his hand. "Bring her in."
The servant brought Sophie Sullivan into the dimly lit audio-visual room.
In the dimly lit audio-visual room, a thrilling and intense action film played on the huge screen. Bathed in the screen’s dim light, Sophie gasped, horrified by the scene before her.
A maidservant in a rabbit costu knelt devoutly at the feet of a man seated on a velvet sofa. A dozen other won in maid uniforms were diligently serving him nearby.
It was a terrifying sight.
"Young Master, I have brought the person," Charlie River said respectfully, bowing slightly.
Thomas Shannon’s handso face was hidden in the interplay of light and shadow. The mont his predatory, nacing gaze landed on Sophie, she shuddered.
His thin, crimson lips curved slightly. "Co."
The two words were deep and brooked no defiance.
Sophie stood frozen. Charlie River dragged her before Thomas Shannon.
The man lifted his foot, kicking aside the maid in the rabbit costu kneeling at his feet.
Charlie River prompted from the side, "Kneel."
Kneel?
Sophie pursed her lips. Why should I kneel?
Thomas Shannon sipped his red wine and gestured to a nearby maid. "Teach her the rules."
"Yes, Young Master." The maid handed the fruit plate she was holding to another servant and approached Sophie.
Sophie took a step back, but the maid moved behind her, then swiftly and brutally kicked the back of her knees.
THUMP!
Her legs buckled, and Sophie found herself kneeling before Thomas Shannon.
A faint, mocking smile touched Thomas Shannon’s thin lips. His fair, slender fingers pinched her chin, forcing her head up. "I don’t like people looking down on . Rember that, understood?"
Pervert!
Sophie gritted her teeth. The maid holding her arms twisted behind her back prompted, "Say you understand."
Thomas Shannon’s eyes darkened. His thumb callously scraped across her soft lips. "Not convinced?"
Charlie River explained from the side, "Young Master, her vocal cords are damaged. I’m afraid she cannot speak."
Can’t speak?
Thomas Shannon sneered, recalling her moans from last night.
The man’s handso face drew slowly closer. "Is it that you *can’t* speak, or that you *won’t*? Hmm?"
Sophie glared at him fiercely. Shaless man!
Thomas Shannon let out a dry "Heh." His well-defined hand shot out, gripping her jaw and forcing her to look up at him.
"You’re the first woman I’ve t who isn’t afraid to die."
In front of everyone, his hand tightened shalessly on her jaw. Sophie’s brow furrowed, her beautiful eyes glaring at him with growing resentnt.
"Still not talking?"
Thomas Shannon leaned closer. His cold, intense male scent invaded Sophie’s nostrils, impossible to avoid. A wicked smirk played on his lips as his slender fingertips maliciously tilted her chin up. "Going to talk now?" he drawled mockingly.
The mont he finished speaking, his grip on her jaw tightened, so fiercely it felt as if her bones would shatter.
Sophie trembled.
She suddenly ducked her head and bit down hard on his wrist.
Pain shot through his wrist. Thomas Shannon’s eyes turned glacial. He clamped his other hand on her jaw, forcing it open. Her jaw went numb, and Sophie was forced to open her mouth, glaring at him defiantly.
He showed no sign of releasing her. Instead, the hand gripping her jaw tightened further, yanking her head higher.
Thomas Shannon glanced at the neat double row of teeth marks on his wrist, a cold smirk touching his lips. "Quite fiery, aren’t you?"
"Young Master, shall we teach her a lesson for you?" a maid asked softly from the side.
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