Thomas Shannon scoffed. 'Perhaps he's angry'? He *is* angry! That little maniac is so obviously furious, did he think I couldn't tell? Did I need *him* to point it out?
Charlie River lowered his gaze innocently, wondering what he had done wrong.
Thomas Shannon looked around, his brow furrowed. "Where's Harry?"
Harry, that little fellow, was Thomas Shannon's beloved pet, so he could swagger about as he pleased in the manor. He roamed around the manor every day and would come back meowing for food when he was tired.
Finding Harry right now might not be easy.
"Young Master, please wait a moment. I'll go find him now."
Charlie River left the bedroom and immediately sent people to look for Harry.
As soon as he went downstairs, he saw Harry lying on the sofa, belly exposed, fast asleep and snoring.
"No need to search anymore," Charlie River said with a chuckle, then turned and went back upstairs to report to Thomas Shannon.
"Young Master, Harry is sleeping on the sofa downstairs."
