CHAPTER 301: CHAPTER 303: HOW COULD HE TREAT HER LIKE THIS

CLICK.

William Guillen put down his mobile phone and said with a smile, "Rare, Shannon. I took a picture for you as a keepsake; no need to thank me."

Thomas Shannon didn’t respond to William Guillen’s teasing. He frowned and swallowed with difficulty.

Seeing his agonized expression, Sophie Sullivan laughed, "You don’t like it either, right?"

How bitter must one’s heart be to enjoy these greasy, cloying flavors?

Thomas Shannon picked up the purified water from the tea table and drank a couple of sips before saying, "Throw it away."

As soon as he spoke, Sophie Sullivan quickly threw the remaining red bean pastry into the trash bin.

Amelia Shaw’s heart felt like it had been pierced by an arrow, a dull, throbbing pain. My heart is being ripped apart; the pain is agonizing. How could he treat me like this...? Could one’s love for someone just vanish like that? All the kindness he once showed me, all the love he professed... what did it all mean now?

Staying here would only bring more humiliation.

Amelia Shaw knew with certainty. I can’t stay any longer. I have to leave this place immediately. Leave this suffocating space!

Yet, her legs felt as heavy as if filled with lead; she couldn’t move a single step. All I can do is stand here numbly and let them humiliate me.

Each wave of humiliation was like a razor-sharp knife, carving deep wounds into her heart. Blood flowed like a river...

She stood there, numb, her mind reeling with visions of revenge. In her imagination, she was grinding Sophie Sullivan underfoot, forcing her to kneel and beg for mercy like a dog.

Suddenly, she heard the word "weapons."

She quickly came to her senses. At some point, Thomas Shannon, Edward Benson, and a third person had begun discussing the latest batch of arms.

These belonged to the K Group, independently designed and developed by the company; some clients had already signed purchasing agreements.

Amelia Shaw thought of the design drawing she had secretly photographed and sent to Frank Mitchell. Could it be that batch of arms? If it really is... that would be perfect! Frank Mitchell went to such lengths for that design drawing; it must be incredibly useful. At that time, Thomas Shannon would be the one to suffer the loss.

Thinking about this, Amelia Shaw felt a surge of vengeful pleasure well up inside her. Smiling, she looked at Thomas Shannon.

She thought silently, Thomas Shannon, this is the price you’ll pay for abandoning me. I’ll make you remember this forever.

In one week’s time, Charlie River had delivered all the medical instruments required by George Stanford back to the manor.

In the medical office, an operating room was specifically cleared out to become his exclusive surgical suite.

His private office was also fully equipped.

Everything was ready, just waiting for him to perform the surgery on Sophie Sullivan.

During this week, George Stanford’s wounds had also healed completely.

He came to his office, looking around with satisfaction. Charlie River stood by and said, "Mr. Standford, if there’s anything you’re not satisfied with, please point it out, and we will make improvements immediately."

"No need, this is more than enough."

George Stanford sat down in the chair behind his desk. The surgical plan for Sophie Sullivan, too, had been reduced to ashes by a fierce fire.

He took out a pen and began to write the surgical plan.

It took him an entire afternoon to complete it.

Leaving the medical office, he went to the castle. There, he meticulously wrote out the surgical plan, detailing possible problems, preventive measures, and the expected recovery time Sophie Sullivan’s face would undergo after the surgery.

"Young Master Shannon, please take a look. If everything is all right, we can begin the surgery tomorrow."

Thomas Shannon had yet to say anything.