"Sophie Sullivan, this is all you're capable of."
Minimus Hart sneered, "If it weren't for Young Master, you would be nothing."
Previously, Sophie Sullivan might have thought there was some truth to that.
But now, she scoffed, "Minimus Hart, let me tell you, even without Thomas Shannon, I, Sophie Sullivan, am far more than you, Minimus Hart, could ever measure up to!"
Who does she think she is? Such brazen audacity! It seemed she really couldn't recognize her own reflection, truly believing she was devastatingly beautiful!
"Lower your head. I'll tell you..."
Sophie Sullivan, skeptical, lowered her head. "Where is the antidote?"
Minimus Hart's gaze, like that of a venomous snake, coiled tightly around her. Every word she uttered was laced with vicious malice. "You did this to me, Sophie Sullivan. Your face... you can forget about it ever recovering in this lifetime. I want you to accompany me to hell."
