Atrophy of Love: Mr. Harris, Stop Fooling Around! novel Chapter 134

“Don’t worry, apart from…” Nicole wanted to say Charles at first but swallowed the name back when she caught a glimpse of Yvette standing next to her. “Your brother and I won’t go easy on anyone who conspired against you.”

After giving Sophia her word, she hurried along to catch up with Sterling.

Megan walked over and closed the door, standing on one side in a reserved manner. She stole a couple of glances at Sophia and Yvette from time to time.

"You were caught in the rain and have been with me the entire night. It must have been hard for you," Sophia said to Megan. "You should go back and rest. Don't end up getting sick."

Megan was spent. Since Sophia’s life was not in danger anymore, she did not push back her offer this time and went back.

Yvette looked at Sophia with eyes filled with heartache and guilt. "Are you hungry? Should I fix you something?”

"I’m fine, Aunt Harris," Sophia said. "I'm not hungry."

Yvette sighed. She wanted to say something but decided not to do so on second thought.

"What Mr. Harris does has nothing to do with you. You don't need to feel guilty toward me or anything because of that." Sophia's voice was very soft. After saying those words, she covered her mouth and coughed.

Yvette's face changed dramatically when she saw this. She quickly took her hand and asked, "How do you feel? Is your pulmonary edema relapsing? I'll go and get the doctor!”

She spoke in a hurried and anxious manner, standing up as soon as she finished her sentence.

"No." Sophia took her arm, rubbed her throat, and said mildly, "My throat is just a little itchy. It’s not my pulmonary edema relapsing."

Blood came back to Yvette's face. She sat down and opened her mouth several times before asking, "When did you start having pulmonary edema? Why haven’t I heard of it before?"

"It started when I was in prison. Don't worry, I won't die," Sophia said calmly.

However, the more indifferent she was, the more terrible Yvette felt. "Soph—"

She did not continue her sentence after calling her.

“Didn’t I already say that Mr. Harris’ actions have nothing to do with you?" Sophia looked at her and smiled. "Mr. Harris is your son. I can understand even if you stand on his side."

She paused for a moment, sounding slightly bitter and sarcastic. "Besides, you have done a lot for me, so much more than what Mr. and Madam White have done for me."

Yvette sighed and consoled her. "Don't take it too hard. Your mother is just used to listening to your dad. She still cares a lot about you actually."

"Hah!" Sophia sneered. "So what if she still cares a lot about me? She will stand on Mr. White’s side unconditionally as long as he lives."

She licked her dry lips and elaborated on the second half of the sentence. "Even if it means taking my life."

The VIP ward was very spacious, but Yvette felt as though she was currently in a small cage that was less than a meter in width, length, and height. It was cramped and suffocating.

She opened her mouth and tried to say something, but she did not know what she should say.

“Go back and rest, Aunt Harris. I’d like to take a rest too." Sophia broke the silence. She moved her arms and murmured, "I’m too tired..."

Yvette felt that the cage she was imprisoned in had narrowed further to the extent that she could not even move now. "Huh? Okay, I’ll leave you to have your rest then."

She did not even know how her expression looked like when she left the ward.

"Madam Harris, just let the young people worry about their own problems. Don’t start worrying about them now." The servant persuaded her after leaving the ward.

Yvette rubbed her sore brows. "I just feel really sorry for Soph. After all, I watched this child grow up. As for the Jones..."

Before the last person could finish her sentence, Sterling walked up to her aggressively and lifted her up with both hands. "Ryleigh, right? Didn’t you always follow my sister around licking her boots like a Pekingese? What? So you’re brave enough to step on your master’s face now that she has lost her power?!"

"Ster… Sterling," Ryleigh was caught off guard when her feet were lifted off the ground. Her face paled. "I'm a… w-woman…"

At almost the same time that her last word fell, Sterling threw her to the ground with a bang and stepped on her stomach. "So what if you’re a woman? I’ve never looked at a person’s gender if I want to bash him or her up!"

The women who were still being extremely sarcastic earlier were now afraid to utter another word.

Sterling snorted coldly at Ryleigh who was so terrified that she was about to pee in her pants. Then, he spat on the floor and snapped impatiently at the receptionists. “Where’s your new manager and that Tiffany woman? Ask them to get the f*ck out here!"

Ryleigh clambered up in embarrassment while Sterling was not paying any attention to her and mixed into the crowd. She straightened her back again. Her voice was much lower this time. "Do you really think that this place belongs to the Whites? Just you wait, Mr. Harris will fix you. Humph."

"Miss Adams, only cowards talk behind someone else’s back. Why don’t you say it to Mr. White’s face." Someone standing next to her laughed.

Ryleigh murmured a few words. Her voice was so soft that others could not hear her at all. She then walked upstairs.

Dream Club’s receptionists had always been stern. The onlookers who were watching the fun thought that the receptionists would not entertain Sterling who was clearly here to create trouble.

To their surprise, the head of the receptionist walked out and said to Sterling reverently, "Someone has gone to get Manager Jim and Tiffany. Please wait a moment, Mr. White."

Having said that, she pointed at the big vase that Sterling was about to kick and said, "This Qing Dynasty vase is a new arrival. It will be hundreds of thousands of dollars if you break it. It’s not worth it."

Before Sterling could do anything this time, Nicole, who was known for her good temper, stepped forward and kicked the huge vase. "What an eyesore."

Whether she was referring to the vase, the receptionist, the crowd who was watching the fun, or Charles when she said ‘an eyesore’ would depend entirely on their own understanding.