Thomas Shannon's whole body tensed up. He turned around and grabbed her chin with one hand, his long, cold eyes narrowed dangerously, "Cecilia Branford, don't rely on your face to be presumptuous."
Sophie Sullivan blinked her eyes, her brain whirled, and she understood, "So, you only like this face?"
The doorbell rang, Thomas Shannon patted her cheek, "Alright, the midnight snack is here."
Although not very satisfied, Sophie decided to fill her stomach first and deal with him later.
In the living room, the waiter laid out the midnight snack on the dining table and respectfully withdrew.
Sophie hadn't had a chance to take a bath, draped in her sleep gown, she sat on a chair and glanced at the food on the tabletop, and immediately lost all appetite.
What kind of rubbish is this!
Not a single thing she liked to eat.
The man sitting opposite raised his eyelids and glanced at her, "What's wrong, Cecilia? Aren't these all your favorites, don't they suit your taste?"
Sophie: "..."
