What kind of man is Young Master? Such a man never lacks won. He’s only nice to Sophie Sullivan because of her novelty. Once that wears off, let’s see how arrogant she can be then!
「Later that night.」
Sophie Sullivan had taken a bath and watched a movie in her bedroom for a while before lying down.
She didn’t know how long it had been when the bedroom door opened. Sophie Sullivan imdiately closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep.
Thomas Shannon closed the bedroom door behind him and strode towards her. Standing by the bed, the tall, commanding man cast a long shadow from the light, his lanky figure looming over her. The shadow fell directly onto her face. Sophie Sullivan held her breath, desperately wishing he would just go away. Any longer, and she’d give herself away.
"OW."
Suddenly, Harry owed.
Sophie Sullivan’s internal alarm bells blared; a sense of impending doom washed over her.
The next second, Harry’s furry tail swept back and forth across her nose.
She had no idea when Harry had last had a bath, but the sll nearly made her pass out.
The stench, combined with the tickling fur, was too much. Sophie Sullivan had no choice but to drop the act. She opened her eyes and pushed Thomas Shannon away. "Thomas Shannon, that’s enough!"
Despicable! Utterly despicable! To think he’d actually use Harry!
Harry, seemingly finding it fun, kept nudging his little head forward, his furry tail wagging, clearly wanting to play more.
Thomas Shannon picked Harry up, pressing a hand on the cat’s head, a sarcastic smirk playing on his lips. "What, not pretending to be asleep anymore?"
Sophie Sullivan: "..."
She knew it wouldn’t be this easy to fool him!
"Still defiant?" Thomas Shannon glanced down, scolding the yowling Harry in his arms. "Quiet! One more peep and all your dried small fish will be confiscated tomorrow!"
Harry instantly cowered. Like a little kitten, he rubbed his fluffy head against Thomas Shannon’s palm.
Thomas Shannon turned, unceremoniously tossed Harry out, and then closed the door.
Sophie Sullivan closed her eyes, turning her back to him.
The next second, the mattress dipped.
The man lay down beside her, his long arm reaching out, pulling her into his embrace.
"Sophie Sullivan," the man’s deep voice resonated by her ear, "how much clearer do I need to be before you’re willing to tell the truth?"
The na "Sophie Sullivan" jarred her nerves.
Her entire body stiffened, a chill creeping up from her toes.
She had thought that as long as she continued to play dumb, he wouldn’t press the issue. As long as she didn’t admit it, he couldn’t do anything to her. But now, he was clearly done with pretenses, with beating around the bush; he had said her na directly. He wasn’t allowing her to escape, cutting off all her routes of retreat!
Sophie Sullivan couldn’t take it anymore. She surrendered. Turning in his arms to face him, she said, "Fine, fine, I’ll talk."
Thomas Shannon watched her with unhurried composure, waiting for her to speak.
Sophie Sullivan took a deep breath. "Before I say anything, I have a question for you."
"Ask."
"How did you find out about all this? Have you investigated my background thoroughly too?"
"That’s two questions."
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