Was it her own will, or was Your Excellency Mr. President behind it?
Thomas Shannon just smiled without saying a word, his cold eyes tinged with a dark murderous intent; this Thomas Shannon was not unfamiliar to Sophie Sullivan.
He was never a good person, cold and rciless were inherent traits of his nature.
After a long ti of silence, Thomas Shannon looked at her and found her brows slightly furrowed, her eyes filled with confusion and bewildernt as she gazed at him softly.
It seed like she was worrying about him.
Thomas Shannon shed the coldness in his eyes, his deep voice softened a lot, "Don’t worry, I have a way."
"What way?"
Thomas Shannon raised his head, gently rubbing her head, his gaze burning as he looked at her, without saying a word.
Did he not intend to tell her?
Sophie Sullivan felt disinterested, "You say you like , yet you won’t tell even this."
"Not telling you is to spare you from unnecessary worries." After a pause, Thomas Shannon added, "Don’t worry, your man is not easy to deal with."
"Even the opponent is the President’s daughter, it’s the sa?"
"Of course."
......
The villa district in the suburbs.
Since Edward Benson severed all ties with his family, he has been living here.
The villa had no guards, even the servants were pitifully few.
There were only three servants for daily cleaning and cooking.
William Guillen loved wine, and it so happened that Thomas Shannon’s wine cellar housed many rare and precious wines, so Shannon’s wine cellar beca William Guillen’s favorite place to frequent.
In the past, Edward Benson never understood the appeal of wine, even joked bluntly that he was a drunkard.
Until... after Linda had trouble.
He couldn’t sleep night after night, suffering from long-term insomnia, tried sleeping pills and latonin, but none worked on him.
He had once been so exhausted that his head ached severely, yet he couldn’t fall asleep.
During that nightmare period, he lived like a shell of a person, akin to a living corpse.
Finally, with William Guillen’s suggestion, he started attempting to drink wine, mindlessly gulping it down until he was drunk, until the alcohol numbed his nerves.
After that, he could sleep.
Wine is a good thing, especially for those who need it, it is an indispensable treasure.
"Young Master, dinner is ready."
The servant stood at the entrance of the study room, knocked on the door, and called him down the stairs for dinner.
Edward Benson was holding a wine glass in one hand, and Linda’s photos in the other. In the photos, Linda’s long hair was slightly curled, a pluria rubra tucked behind her ears, dressed in a vacation long dress, she coyly nestled in his embrace.
The smile bright and sweet like the sweetest candy in the world.
These were the photos taken when they vacationed in Tahiti together back then.
Nowadays, the edges of the photos had beco frayed from years of gentle rubbing.
The servant stood outside the door for a long ti without receiving a response, knowing Edward Benson was again silently grieving, did not disturb further, and retreated.
Edward Benson downed the wine in his cup in one gulp, the fiery strong liquor searing his esophagus, making him feel painful yet exhilarated.
Setting down the wine glass, his fingertips gently rubbed Linda’s gleaming smile, her small face of palm-size showed delicate features.
She was timid, never daring to watch thrilling or horror movies, afraid of cockroaches, afraid of all crawling creatures.
Since being with him, she dared not sleep alone anymore.
No matter how busy with official business, he would hurriedly return to accompany her to sleep together.
If truly unable to return, he would video call her to coax her to sleep.
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