The people in the room were as if struck by invisible lightning, charred and blackened; a single sentence from Rosie Scott held immense power.
Jack Hugh was so frightened his legs turned to jelly, his body stiffened and collapsed; Mr. Gold's face was a colorful mix of emotions, and the maids' eyes were wide open.
Only Charles Anderson stood out, a sly smile flashed across his otherwise calm face; the dining room seemed silent, yet everyone held their breath, hearts trembling.
Rosie had already made up her mind, even if Charles Anderson didn't agree, she was determined to crawl into his bed tonight, thinking that a half-paralyzed man wouldn't be able to cause much commotion.
Previously, he had confidently promised to catch the thief, yet there was no movement at all, and now he was in trouble, just watch him remain indifferent.
"Okay." The man's languid voice made it seem like a normal affair, unaware of any impropriety.
