Sophie Sullivan slowly approached him.
Thomas Shannon reached out, and Sophie Sullivan instinctively placed her hand in his.
Grasping her hand, he felt an abnormal heat.
Thomas Shannon furrowed his brow. "Sit down."
Sophie Sullivan sat on his lap. His cool palm touched her forehead. "Why is your temperature so high?"
"Probably because I’m sick," Sophie Sullivan shrugged nonchalantly. She didn’t seem bothered by her temperature in the slightest.
The corner of Thomas Shannon’s mouth curved slightly. "Probably? It’s your body. Don’t you know whether you’re sick or not?"
His question felt a little pointed.
Sophie Sullivan blinked, staring at him intently. "Young Master, weren’t you trying to punish ? If I die from this illness, wouldn’t that be exactly what you want?"
A sharp pain shot through her jaw as he suddenly gripped it. Sophie Sullivan frowned. "Can’t you be a little gentler?"
Thomas Shannon sneered. "With that ugly face of yours? I can’t bring myself to be gentle."
An attack! He’s actually stooping to personal insults!
Sophie Sullivan stubbornly jerked her head to the side. "Then don’t touch ."
Ignoring her petulance, Thomas Shannon forcefully turned her head back to face him. His deep eyes stared at her intently. "How long?"
"How long for what?"
"How long have you had this fever?"
Sophie Sullivan seed to deflate, her eyelids drooping. "Two days."
Two days? Wasn’t she supposed to be so bold? Yet she didn’t even have the courage to see a doctor?
"Idiot!"
"Who are you calling an idiot?" Sophie Sullivan glared at him, her expression defiant. "If you’re cursing , I won’t let this go!"
Thomas Shannon pushed her away, his mood plumting. "Stay away from ."
"You’re the one who told to co over, and now you’re blaming ?" Sophie Sullivan defiantly did the opposite, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her scorching body temperature pressed against him.
"You little maniac, get off !"
Sophie Sullivan’s interest visibly deflated. She released her arms, pouting. "You’re no fun at all. Can’t even take a little teasing?"
Blue veins throbbed on Thomas Shannon’s temples. Sophie Sullivan imdiately sat down ekly to the side.
"Get out. Have Charlie River take you to the dical room."
"Young Master, don’t be so hypocritical. Don’t you want to torture to death? I won’t thank you for this sudden, fake kindness."
Thomas Shannon’s anger ignited instantly. Hypocritical? Fake kindness?
He seized her chin, his grip painfully tight. Clenching his teeth, he ground out, "What nonsense are you spouting now? Are you looking to die?"
Sophie Sullivan winced, beads of sweat forming on her forehead. "Didn’t you order Minimus Hart to torture ? If I weren’t so resilient, she would have killed by now!"
"What torture?"
Sophie Sullivan rolled her eyes. "Still pretending! You know perfectly well what torture!"
Enraged, Thomas Shannon slamd her face-down onto his lap and raised his hand.
SLAP!
Sophie Sullivan bit her lip. "Thomas Shannon, you bastard!"
"Say that again?"
"Bastard!"
SLAP!
Sophie Sullivan, furious and aching, clenched her fist and slamd it onto the sofa twice. "Just get it over with!"
Thomas Shannon’s hand, poised in mid-air, froze.
"Are you going to tell , or should I ask Minimus Hart?"
Ask Minimus Hart? Sophie Sullivan shivered, struggling to get off his lap. She couldn’t let Minimus Hart see her like this. Minimus Hart would be insufferably smug if she saw this! Sophie couldn’t let her enjoy such a spectacle. She wouldn’t let Minimus Hart get the satisfaction.
"Don’t move! Answer !" The man pressed her down, pinning her firmly to his legs.
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