"Didn't you have questions? I came to clear your doubts."
Thomas Shannon leaned over, picked up Harry, who had taken over her embrace, and tossed him aside.
The man sat down beside her, then lifted her onto his lap. He held her waist with one hand and gripped her chin with the other, "Cecilia Branford, if you have any questions, you can ask them now."
"I don't want to ask anything." Sophie Sullivan muttered, lowering her eyelids.
The innocent Harry was thrown to the side, his chubby and round body sprawled with his belly up on the carpet, looking bewildered, taking a long time to recover.
Thomas Shannon pressed her head into his chest, gently patting her spine, his voice softened, "Cecilia Branford, are you angry?"
Sophie remained silent, but Thomas Shannon didn't mind. He continued, "Don't be angry. You want me to sell that batch of unmanned combat aircraft to your uncle, and I promise you. I will also offer a discount on the price. How does that sound?"
"It doesn't matter."
