At that moment, Charlie River understood something. "Charlie, be gentle!" Thomas Shannon suddenly spoke, startling Charlie River. While daydreaming, the pressure from his hands had unconsciously increased. He quickly withdrew his hand. "I’m sorry, Young Master." "What are you thinking about, Charlie? You can’t even handle such a small matter!" "I’m sorry. Please punish me, Young Master." Charlie River respectfully lowered his head. Thomas Shannon snorted coldly then put on his shirt, his slender fingertips elegantly fastening the buttons. "Wash all the cars in the garage." Washing all the cars in the garage... That was a big project. How much time would it take for him, alone, to finish? Thomas Shannon went to the bedroom, pushed the door open, and looked around, but he didn’t see Sophie Sullivan. His brow furrowed, and his hand gripping the door handle tightened slightly. "Maniac." Sophie Sullivan’s voice came from the restroom. "What’s up?" When she woke up, Sophie’s first concern was her face. She had run to the restroom and was carefully examining her face; half of it was already rewrapped with gauze. Sophie couldn’t see what was underneath, so she had no way of knowing how the recovery was progressing. Had it worsened? The man came to the restroom doorway. His tall body leaned lazily against the doorframe, arms leisurely crossed over his chest, his cold eyes fixed on her. Sophie Sullivan glanced at him in the mirror. "Do you need something?" "Can’t I come looking for you if there’s nothing I need?" What kind of question was that! Could he not look for her if there was nothing specific? She shouldn’t forget, she was his woman! Did he need a reason to seek her out whenever he pleased? Sophie Sullivan ignored the anger in his words. She gracefully turned to face him, tilting her head slightly. "Thomas Shannon, did Old Mr. Standford say anything about my face?" Thomas Shannon looked down and sneered. In the end, what she cared about most was still this face of hers. He remained silent for a long moment, and the smile on Sophie Sullivan’s lips gradually froze. "Thomas Shannon, why aren’t you saying anything? Could it be my face..." Her hand, visibly trembling, gently touched the gauze. A large hand gripped hers. Thomas Shannon looked down at her upturned face—it was smooth, flawless, and glowed with a healthy, translucent luster. Her misty eyes held a shimmering light, yet the horror deep within them was strikingly evident. "Old Mr. Standford threw a fit." Sophie Sullivan blinked uncertainly, waiting for him to continue. Thomas Shannon gently lowered her hand, a slight hook at the corner of his mouth. "In the end, he changed your medicine. Your face, it’s saved." He had omitted many details, mentioning only the outcome. This update ıs available on 𝔫𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔩⁂𝖿𝗂𝗋𝖾⁂𝔫𝔢𝔱 Naturally, Sophie Sullivan had no idea what she had experienced while unconscious. She finally let out the breath she had been holding. The taut string of Sophie Sullivan’s nerves suddenly snapped, and her entire body sagged. She fell weakly against him, and Thomas Shannon, quick to react, caught her. Lowering his head, he frowned. "What’s wrong?" "Happy ?" Thomas Shannon’s words were laced with mockery. Sophie Sullivan was in a good mood and couldn’t be bothered to stoop to his level. She turned and went back to the washstand, humming an unknown tune as she began to brush her teeth. Seeing her smug expression, Thomas Shannon shook his head and chuckled in amusement. After finishing her washing up, Sophie Sullivan saw Thomas Shannon still standing in the doorway. A question flashed through her mind. "Thomas Shannon." Her gaze was intense, locking onto him with profound, unspoken meaning.