Pampered by My Secret Husband

Chapter 50: Chapter 50: Who else dares besides you?

”Young Master, the maniac... she... she refuses to come see you.”

The words came out gently from Minimus Hart, in a soft murmur.

Thomas Shannon’s cold eyes darkened. Not willing?

Had she grown bolder after not seeing him for a few days?

A streak of annoyance flashed through his heart. Was she still angry about the punishment he gave her the day he left?

A metal lighter clicked, igniting a flame.

The man’s slender fingertips held a cigarette, his eyes slightly narrowed as he lit it.

He took a deep puff, played with the metal lighter in his hand, and looked at the woman with her head lowered. ”Minimus Hart, have you forgotten the rules after being away for a few years?”

”Young Master, I...”

”I don’t want to hear your excuses. I’m giving you one last chance. Bring the maniac to me.”

Minimus Hart’s whole body shivered. ”Yes, Young Master.”

She lowered her head and retreated a few steps, then turned and left the bedroom.

The moment she stepped out of the bedroom, her fists tightened.

She left the castle and entered the courtyard, making her way unhindered to Sophie Sullivan’s bedroom.

The woman lying on the bed was semi-conscious, her face an unnatural red.

Minimus Hart walked up and bent down. ”Maniac, wake up. Young Master wants to see you.”

In her daze, she could hear someone calling her. Sophie Sullivan slowly opened her eyes.

Seeing the hypocritical look on Minimus Hart’s face, she hooked the corner of her lips in cynicism. ”What did you just say?”

”Young Master wants to see you. You don’t have much time. You need to freshen up immediately.”

Had Thomas Shannon returned?

A glimmer of intent flashed in Sophie Sullivan’s eyes. So, was it her turn to turn the tides?

She temporarily suppressed the discomfort in her body. The excitement of overthrowing Minimus Hart in her heart drove her to immediately rise and go to the bath chamber to wash up without needing to be pushed.

After a simple grooming, Sophie Sullivan stepped out of the bath chamber. Not sparing Minimus Hart a glance, she left directly.

”Young Master, the maniac is here.” Minimus Hart stood at the bedroom doorway, delivering her message with a bowed head.

”Come in.”

The man’s deep voice carried an extraordinary magnetism.

Sophie Sullivan turned her head, the corner of her lips slightly raised, sketching a meaningful smile. ”We’ll see.”

Minimus Hart kept her head down, as if she hadn’t heard anything.

Upon entering the bedroom, Sophie Sullivan immediately noticed the dignified, elegant man sitting on the sofa.

It seemed like Heaven had blessed him with exceptional favor. His profile alone was breathtakingly beautiful.

A naturally noble aura surrounded his whole being, making him seem like an inviolable divine deity.

Sophie Sullivan did not mindlessly approach; she halted a few steps away from him.

He said nothing, and so did she.

A faint smell of cigarette smoke floated in the air.

Thomas Shannon exhaled a puff of smoke from his sexy, thin lips. He turned his head, his penetrating cold eyes harboring suppressed anger. ”You...”

Before the reproach could be completed, his gaze landed on the scars on her face, and his bright brow furrowed deeply.

Sophie Sullivan merely smiled at his reaction. ”Young Master, you returned?”

”Where is the mask?”

Sophie Sullivan lifted her hand as if just remembering, innocently caressing her own face. ”The mask was thrown away.”

”Thrown away?”

Thomas Shannon sneered, leisurely flicking off cigarette ash. ”Besides you, who else would have the guts to throw away my things?”

”Oh, Young Master, you are so confident.” Sophie Sullivan slowly put down her hand, her lips pressed into silence.

Clearly, the maniac was not in a good mood. All of her emotions were written on her face.

”Come here.” The man’s deep voice rang out after he extinguished the cigarette butt.

Sophie Sullivan did not move.

”Do you want me to come over and carry you?”

Carry her?

She could forget about that. She’d be lucky if he didn’t toss her onto the floor, let alone dare to hope he would carry her.