Escape?
She actually dared to escape this question?!
This is outrageous!
Sophie Sullivan was pulled back by him, and she punched his chest twice in irritation, "Thomas Shannon, you’re so annoying."
"Answer my question, when will you care about as much as you care about Lucifer?"
"If you want to be my friend and relative, then I’ll care about you like I do for Lucifer."
Sophie’s words completely shut down whatever Thomas Shannon was about to say.
Friend?
Just a friend?
Relative... Her husband is also her relative, isn’t that right?
Thomas Shannon pressed his thin lips tightly, his dark irises staring deeply at her, "I want to be your relative, like a husband-relative."
Sophie was stunned for a few seconds, then after realizing, she snorted with laughter, "Dream on."
If he doesn’t behave well and try to earn points, and yet wants to be her husband, he must be dreaming.
"As long as you dare to think about it, anything is possible," Thomas Shannon held her soft waist with one hand, holding her tightly in his embrace, lowering his head to lightly peck her cheek.
Whatever Thomas Shannon wants, he always has patience.
No matter how much she struggles, it’s nothing but a futile struggle.
"Let go quickly, you sll terrible with sweat, I want to take a bath."
"Shall I help you bathe, hmm?"
Sophie slapped Thomas Shannon’s head away, "No thanks, not needed!"
After a little fuss, Sophie took a bath, changed into a clean sleep gown, and lay back down again.
Thomas Shannon dominantly held her tightly in his arms, secretly thinking that he must hurry and get her pregnant...
...
Suburban Villa.
Edward Benson had already been in a cold war with Linda for two days, and Linda showed no remorse for what she had done.
She hadn’t realized where she went wrong, she was just following orders, to her, whether it was right or wrong wasn’t within her considerations.
The order was above everything else.
More than shocked, Edward Benson felt distressed.
His timid and gentle Isla Stanley, who would fearfully snuggle into him when it thundered, had beco a cold-blooded, rciless killing machine.
She had no sense of right or wrong, no moral compass.
Like a walking corpse-machine, more like a trained assassin.
Edward Benson felt a chill in his heart; if he hadn’t found her earlier, she would’ve stained her hands with more fresh blood later.
Thinking about this, Edward Benson felt exhausted.
Living under the sa roof, Linda’s attitude towards him was always indifferent, ignoring him.
Edward Benson tried to break the silence and deadlock, but Linda showed him no respect and would leave every ti he spoke.
Edward Benson no longer knew how to deal with her, she had made a mistake on the matter of assassinating Thomas Shannon.
As a friend of Thomas Shannon, Edward Benson should have taken her to apologize.
But Linda couldn’t recognize her mistake, asking her to apologize was like climbing a mountain.
Edward Benson found himself in a dilemma.
In the late and quiet night, Edward Benson was unable to sleep, his mind beca even clearer.
Later in the night, outside the window, a violent wind blew, and shortly after, there was thunder and lightning.
The pouring rain splashed against the glass, creating a dense patter of raindrops.
Everything was shrouded in a curtain of rain.
Thunder roared, and flashes of lightning tore open the dark nightfall.
Thinking of Isla Stanley’s fear of thunder, Edward Benson shuddered, imdiately threw off the thin quilt, and quickly got out of bed.
Linda’s bedroom was just next to his.
He arrived at the bedroom door, raised his hand and knocked, asking, "Linda, can I co in?"
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