Pampered by My Secret Husband-Chapter 79: Your Time to Die is Approaching

The word ’mistress’ struck a sensitive nerve with Minimus Hart.

Footsteps were approaching. Minimus Hart couldn’t talk any longer. "I got it. Just be careful; don’t let her find anything to use against you."

"We know, Sister Minnie."

After hanging up the phone, Minimus Hart immediately deleted the call history.

She folded her arms, a cold glint in her eyes. Maniac, your doom is approaching. Let’s see how long you can stay arrogant!

Her mind raced with a thousand thoughts, all in a few short seconds.

Footsteps drew nearer. A calloused hand pinched her chin. "Come here."

"Yes, Mister."

Minimus Hart lowered her eyelids. She had no choice but to submit herself completely to this old man.

It was afternoon when they came out of the SPA room.

Sophie Sullivan, wearing a bathrobe, was led to the cloakroom. The three women who had taken her BWH measurements last night were waiting silently, holding two magnificent formal dresses.

"Maniac, this is the formal dress you and Young Master will wear to the banquet tonight. Try it on."

Sophie Sullivan nodded indifferently. She couldn’t easily defy Thomas Shannon’s orders. Who knows when that moody bastard would turn on her.

The white dress featured an exquisite fishtail design and a trailing skirt hem. It made her look like an ancient Greek goddess, exuding an air of pure, inviolable nobility.

She twirled in front of the floor mirror and nodded in satisfaction. "Not bad, I’ll take this one."

"Alright, now let’s test the makeup."

Sophie Sullivan frowned slightly, her patience worn thin from being ordered around all day.

"Isn’t it still daytime? Why try makeup? It’s a waste of my time."

With that, Sophie Sullivan changed out of the formal dress and left the cloakroom.

Although the maids had objections, they didn’t dare stop her and could only watch her leave.

「In the study room.」

Thomas Shannon took the file Charlie River handed him and signed his name on it with a pen.

His handwriting, strong and forceful, was just like him—cold and proud.

Closing the file, Thomas Shannon capped his pen. "How are the preparations for the maniac coming along?"

"Young Master, the maniac is still trying on formal dresses and makeup."

Thomas Shannon glanced at his wristwatch, his eyes darkening. "Bring her here."

"Yes."

Charlie River went to the cloakroom but found Sophie Sullivan wasn’t there. He then went to Thomas Shannon’s bedroom and, sure enough, found her catching up on sleep.

He called two maidens, who lifted her from the bed and escorted her to the study room.

Sophie Sullivan glared angrily at the man sitting in the boss chair. "Thomas Shannon, are you ever going to stop? Won’t you let me sleep?"

"Are you that desperate for sleep?"

Sophie Sullivan was about to say yes, but then the words swirled in her mind. Why did that sound so off?

"All of you, leave now."

Bowing, the maids and Charlie River retreated. "Yes, Young Master," the maids said.

Charlie River carefully closed the door and stood guard outside the entrance to the study room.

"Can you dance?" Thomas Shannon held a cigarette between his fingertips, placing it at the corner of his mouth. He squinted, bowing his head slightly to light it.

"I don’t know."

Her memories were gone; how could she know if she could? That was quite a profound question.

"Give it a try."

"What?"

Thomas Shannon’s bright brow furrowed deeply. Was she mentally handicapped? Couldn’t she understand the literal meaning?

Waltz music began to play. Thomas Shannon flicked the ash from his cigarette, which he still held at the corner of his mouth, his posture bewitchingly seductive.

He took Sophie Sullivan’s hand. "I’ll teach you."