Sophie Sullivan stomped down hard, only releasing her foot at the sound of a slight crunch. "Quite a clear conscience you have," she sneered.
Enduring the extre pain in her hand, Minimus Hart bit her lip. "Young Master, I have a clear conscience," she said. "No matter what ans you use to force , I won’t admit to a single thing I didn’t do!"
That was enough! Sophie Sullivan was filled with rage upon hearing Minimus Hart’s words. Old Mr. Standford was still in the ICU, his life still in danger, with nurses monitoring him around the clock. Yet, Minimus Hart dared to claim a clear conscience. To think she’s done so many evil things and isn’t even afraid of divine retribution!
Sophie Sullivan turned to Charlie River. "Charlie, do you have a dagger?"
Charlie River glanced at the handso, noble, and stern man sitting on the sofa—Thomas Shannon.
Thomas Shannon lit a cigarette and gave an almost imperceptible nod.
Charlie River turned and left. In a while, he returned with a razor-sharp dagger and handed it to her.
Weighing the dagger in her hand, Sophie Sullivan’s lips curved into a smile. "Thank you," she said.
"You should be thanking Young Master Richardson," Charlie River said, unwilling to take the credit.
Sophie Sullivan playfully blew a kiss at Thomas Shannon, eliciting a low chuckle from the man.
She held the dagger, its cold blade reflecting a chilling light, and lightly tested its sharpness with her fingertip.
Then, she spoke to Minimus Hart, who was prostrate on the floor. "Lift your head."
Minimus Hart slowly lifted her head. Her face was calm, without a hint of panic.
Sophie Sullivan pressed the dagger against Minimus Hart’s cheek. The icy sensation imdiately seeped into Minimus Hart’s skin. Her gaze shifted downward, landing on the dagger that reflected the cold light.
"Maniac, what are you...?"
"Don’t worry. I tested it for you. The blade is very sharp. The process of cutting your face later won’t be too painful."
Is she trying to... disfigure my face?
Minimus Hart’s eyes darkened. "Maniac, if I’ve done sothing wrong, punish , and I’ll accept it. But I haven’t done anything wrong, and I won’t accept any punishnt!"
"Whether you accept it or not, you have no choice, do you?" Sophie Sullivan retorted with a laugh. She lowered her voice so only the two of them could hear, "Minimus Hart, don’t think I don’t know it was you. What you and Raina Bell have been secretly up to... just because I haven’t investigated doesn’t an I’m clueless. This is just the beginning. The real show is yet to co."
Minimus Hart pressed her lips together. She lifted her head, her gaze fixed on Thomas Shannon, who sat on the sofa, condoning Sophie Sullivan’s actions. Did he also believe I had done sothing to George Stanford?
"Young Master, I’m being wrongly accused! Dr. Standford’s accident is tragic, and I feel for him. I understand if the maniac is angry, but I cannot accept being falsely accused!" Minimus Hart protested.
Thomas Shannon took a deep drag from his cigarette. "She just dislikes you," he stated simply.
"That’s right, I don’t like you," Sophie Sullivan admitted, an innocent smile on her face. "Co on, let’s keep each other company."
The next second, Minimus Hart scread.
"AHHH—"
It had to be said, the dagger Charlie River had provided was incredibly sharp.
With a steady motion, neither too light nor too heavy, Sophie Sullivan slashed across half of Minimus Hart’s face.
Blood trickled from the wound, snaking down the cut.
DRIP. DRIP. DRIP...
The floor was splattered with drops of blood. Minimus Hart trembled, her bloodied half-face as terrifying as a ghoul’s—ghastly and horrifying.
Sophie Sullivan pulled out a few facial tissues and wiped the blood off the dagger. "Minimus Hart, now all we can do is pray that Old Mr. Standford recovers soon, so he can perform reparative surgery for us."
Minimus Hart gritted her teeth, enduring the excruciating pain on her face.
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