A sour smell?
Sophie Sullivan got up, walked over to him, and stretched out her arms to hug him, constantly rubbing her sour smell all over him.
"Maniac, are you seeking death?" The man's blue veins bulged on his forehead, and his cold eyes exuded a chilling malevolence.
Sophie Sullivan, unafraid, curled her lips slightly. "Young Master, before I go upstairs to take a bath, I have a few words to say."
"Hold it in!"
"No, holding it in is too uncomfortable."
Sophie Sullivan said, "I refuse to accept this. I accepted it when you put me under house arrest, but what does it mean to then starve me for two days without food? If you want to kill or cut me to pieces, just make it quick. What kind of man are you, torturing me like this?"
"Say it again."
Starving for two days?
Sophie Sullivan sensed something was amiss from the subtle change in his expression.
She repeated her words.
