She was a typical example of someone who, if you gave them an inch, would take a mile. Fearless and audacious, she was the type who would climb any pole offered to her. A little suppression might make her restrain herself somewhat; otherwise, it would only embolden her.
Identity? She had almost forgotten what identity he had given her.
"Isn't it just a slave? I haven't forgotten. Young Master Shannon, how could I dare forget your words?" Sophie forcefully pried his hand from her waist and got off the bed.
Once in the restroom, the sight of her scabbed face in the mirror deeply stung her eyes.
Both hands resting on the washstand, Sophie squeezed her eyes shut and admonished herself inwardly, Sophie Sullivan, oh Sophie Sullivan, why must you clash with Thomas Shannon? There's absolutely nothing to gain from it. Don't forget, you still need his help to get this face healed. Besides, your face isn't healed yet; falling out with him now isn't a wise move.
