CHAPTER 185: CHAPTER 185: YOU CAN JUST ASSUME I’M GOING CRAZY

What puzzled him was why William Guillen would suddenly propose a trip to the Meadow.

"What happened?"

What happened?

William Guillen chuckled lightly. Damn Fluffy Zane for forcing him into this situation!

In a half-dreaming state, someone slapped her cheek lightly several times.

Sophie Sullivan slowly opened her eyes.

"Quickly, get up. We’re going to a fun place today."

"What fun place?" Sophie Sullivan lay on her side, her head resting on one hand, looking at him with interest.

"You’ll know when you get there."

After washing up as quickly as she could, Sophie Sullivan ran out of the bath chamber, grabbed a dress, and went back to change into it.

Only after she dressed did she feel secure.

Stepping out of the bath chamber, she viciously hurled her sleep gown at the deserving face of Thomas Shannon, "Bastard!"

Sweeping away the thrown gown with one hand, Thomas Shannon’s corner of the mouth curled up wickedly. "Do you want to play again?"

His words seemed to hold Sophie Sullivan’s lifeline.

She became apprehensive and no longer dared to act freely.

They set off without even having breakfast.

When they arrived at the airport, they boarded Thomas Shannon’s private jet.

Sophie Sullivan sat in her chair, sulking.

The mask on her face felt particularly bothersome. As the airplane took off, she simply took the mask off and tossed it aside.

The flight attendant who saw the scars beneath her mask showed a shocked expression.

Sophie Sullivan’s eyes narrowed, looking straight at the two beautiful flight attendants, "Did I scare you?"

"No, no."

"Tell the truth. If you lie by just one word, I will make your faces as ugly as mine."

The flight attendants were thoroughly frightened by Sophie Sullivan, nodding repeatedly. "Yes...you scared us."

Those words served as the fuse, igniting the bomb.

Thin anger surfaced on Sophie Sullivan’s face. She coldly looked at the flight attendants, curling her finger. "Come here."

The flight attendants, scared, inched forward.

"Very scared?"

"Sca...scared."

"Give me the knife," Sophie Sullivan ordered coldly.

The flight attendants’ bodies started shaking uncontrollably. They looked to Thomas Shannon for help, "Young Master..."

"Enough!"

Thomas Shannon turned his head to look at Sophie Sullivan, who seemed bent on looking for trouble. "How long are you going to keep throwing a fit?"

"I’m not throwing a fit." Sophie Sullivan’s eyes were cool, and she was calmer than she had ever been. "This face... it doesn’t just scare them, it scares me too."

Thomas Shannon was speechless.

"They’re like a mirror. On their faces, I can see just how ugly and terrifying mine is."

"So?" Thomas Shannon’s voice was low. His cold eyes were fixed on her unblinkingly.

There were flames flickering in his eyes.

Sophie Sullivan turned her head, her gaze uncharacteristically stubborn. "I also hate this face."

"Hate it enough to destroy the other half too?"

"Yes!"

Thomas Shannon sneered, his eyes turning cold. "Give her the knife."

"Young Master..."

"Stop blabbering and give her the knife."

Sophie Sullivan was now in an impossible situation. She pursed her lips, stubbornly refusing to speak.

Soon, one of the flight attendants handed Sophie Sullivan a fruit knife.

She took the knife, hesitating and conflicted.

Her internal script didn’t follow this plot. She was supposed to coerce Thomas Shannon into finding a doctor to fix her face, not be goaded into declaring that she would destroy the other half of her face.

"Aren’t you going to destroy it? Do it," the man’s cold voice sounded.

Sophie Sullivan simply tossed the knife away and leaned heavily on the chair back. "I’m not insane. Why would I ruin my own face?"

"Then what kind of fit are you having?"

Sophie Sullivan fell silent, choking up. She took a deep breath, turning her head to face the porthole and observing the clouds outside. "Just treat it as if I were throwing a fit."

The flight attendant quickly picked up the knife and cautiously retreated.

After a while, Thomas Shannon’s fury had subsided significantly. He held Harry, stroking his fur occasionally.

Harry meowed contentedly a few times.

Sophie Sullivan propped her forehead with her hand, feeling exhausted.

"Just say what you have to say."

She looked up in surprise, seeing the man’s resolute, cold profile. Just like him: cold, arrogant, and gloomy.

Sophie Sullivan hesitated for a moment. "Can I say anything?"