Chapter 942: Chapter 941: We’re All Bastards

The beautiful dream was interrupted, Shirley Grant turned over unhappily, not opening her eyes or even glancing at Andrew Davidson standing by the bed.

As sharp as Andrew, he couldn’t possibly not know that Shirley was already awake at this moment.

Seeing her action, he frowned with great displeasure.

"Get up right now!"

Andrew’s tone was quite unfriendly, as if he would do something violent the next second.

Shirley realized this and immediately sat up from the bed.

Since she was sleeping in her clothes, there was no need to avoid anything.

She got out of bed immediately, glaring angrily at Andrew.

"Tell me, what exactly do you mean?"

What the hell kind of hostage?

She’s a living being, okay?

Moreover, to Andrew, she was nothing more than a dispensable burden.

Don’t tell her he’s fallen for her, that only happens in novels, right?

"Did you finish your work last night?"

Andrew had every right to wake her up.

Shirley twitched her mouth, filled with black lines.

"Honestly, I was just about to make a successful escape and get home, then you suddenly showed up to stop me, not only that, you treated me like a hostage. I’m not even one of your enemy’s people."

What bad luck.

She definitely didn’t check the almanac before leaving that day; she should not have made the escape that day.

Oh crap!

This sucks!

What kind of bad luck has she run into?

"Everything on that ship belongs to me."

Andrew raised an eyebrow; there were things he needed on the ship, but he hadn’t expected to seize a woman.

Yet, this woman was too exceptional.

He’d been pondering for days about how much of this woman’s words were true.

A son with a heart condition?

Joking, this woman looked so young, did she look like the mother of a seven-year-old?

Poor Shirley, if she knew Andrew didn’t believe her words at all, she would wish she could blow this place up.

"I’m not a thing!"

Shirley yelled, she wasn’t a thing, she didn’t belong to him!

Ah oh!

Not a thing?

Pfft—

Seems like she insulted herself.

"You’re not a thing either."

Shirley quickly added a line, then smiled broadly.

Andrew stood there, his mouth twitching, he couldn’t refute that sentence.

"Then we must be a perfect match, neither of us being a thing?"

Shirley: .........

"Get lost!"

Andrew shook his head and rubbed his temples.

"Make me some hangover soup."

Hearing that, Shirley finally noticed the smell of wine filling the room.

"You’re drinking again?"

This man, could he ever go a day without drinking?

Since she arrived here, she hadn’t seen him come back sober even once.

"Who cares if I do?"

Suddenly, he bent his 1.9-meter noble stature, leaned over, and whispered in such an ambiguous way?

Because of the wine, his voice carried a nasal tone, a hint of childishness.

"Sorry, I only care about my son at home."

Shirley kept a broad smile, replied cleverly.

"Boring!"

Every time the mood was just right, she liked to bring up her son.

"If it’s boring, then go to sleep, no need for hangover soup."

Leaving these words, Shirley headed towards the kitchen first.

"See, you say you won’t make soup for me, but your actions are quite honest."

From behind came Andrew’s teasing voice.

"Sorry, I’m just going to make dinner for myself."