Sophie threw away the long-handled spoon, a cold, stunning smile blood on her lips. "Enjoy this feeling. You will beco familiar with it in the coming days."
Leaving those words, Sophie turned and walked out, telling the nurse, "No one is allowed to go in and see her."
"But maniac, this might kill her..."
"Then wait two hours before you save her. Just don’t let her die."
She was keeping Minimus Hart’s life, intending to toy with her slowly.
Letting her die now would be letting her off too easily!
Sophie left the dical office. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Old Mr. Standford anymore. The more she looked at him, the more guilty she felt.
Especially now, when she had no way of making Minimus Hart hand over the antidote.
A wave of helplessness and powerlessness surged over her, threatening to drown her.
She returned to the bedroom and fell straight to sleep.
A short while later, the bedroom door opened. Deliberately softened footsteps approached the bedside.
The man’s strong, masculine scent—cool, with a faint hint of cigarettes—wafted into her nostrils.
Warm, slightly calloused fingertips gently stroked her face. His deep, magnetic voice, like the most potent aphrodisiac, whispered, "Fennie, are you unhappy?"
"I haven’t forgiven you. Don’t talk to ."
Sophie didn’t want to talk. She just wanted to find the antidote as soon as possible so Old Mr. Standford could wake up.
She wanted to regain her looks and, at the sa ti, ensure Old Mr. Standford was safe and sound.
Although Old Mr. Standford could be sharp-tongued and always liked to call her Fiona—a na that she felt diminished her status—he wasn’t a bad person.
Sophie’s muffled, sulky voice ca from under the silk quilt. Thomas Shannon leaned down.
Sophie gave a cold snort. She didn’t want to talk to anyone right now.
She propped her hands on his chest and pushed him away. "Thomas Shannon!"
"I have so good news for you."
Sophie’s puzzled eyes t the man’s cold eyes, which held faint traces of a smile.
Her gaze was questioning, but Thomas Shannon rely smiled without speaking.
She had no choice but to ask, "What’s the good news?"
"The doctor sent an analysis of the substances in George Stanford’s blood to experts overseas. We just heard back. They’re confident they can isolate the components and develop a dication to treat him."
Sophie’s eyes widened. The joy was so sudden and overwhelming that she grabbed his shirt collar. "Are you telling the truth?"
Can Old Mr. Standford really be saved?
"It will take so ti, but not too long."
"That’s great!" Excited, Sophie hugged his neck, tilted her head up, and pecked him on his handso face.
Thomas Shannon seized the mont, holding her soft body close. "Is that a reward?"
"Of course! Great job! Keep up the good work."
Sophie’s gloomy mood finally lifted considerably. It would take so ti, but only a little.
She could afford to wait!
"Fennie, say you forgive ."
"Thomas Shannon, don’t push your luck."
Whether she forgave him or not depended on her mood. When did it beco his place to order her around?
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