After Tyrone walked away, Joanna talked about something that happened in their childhood and asked if she remembered anything.

Sophia's head hurt so badly, so how could she remember something so long ago. She perfunctorily nodded and shook her head, or uttered monosyllabic words in response.

Janna's mouth was dry, and she finally stopped chattering. She held her chin, and blinked her two round eyes:" Sophia, do you hate me a lot?"

"No..."

"But, I feel like you're rejecting me." A woman's sixth sense was often the most accurate. And Joanna could sense that Sophia disliked her, even hated her.

"No really, you think too much." Sophia stood up holding her head that was in pain and said, "I want to go out for a little relaxation. Miss Sterling, later when my little uncle comes, you help me tell him, will you."

After saying that, she didn't wait for Joanna to respond, and she took a step to leave here.

But in a mental trance, she didn't even notice the oncoming waiter. She unexpectedly collided with him. The tray in the waiter's hand fell to the floor, and half a dozen wine glasses fell. They were smashed on the floor.

She stumbled and fell toward the floor.

The only remaining sobriety she had left told her that she was doomed if she fell, and that she should stand firm.

But her alcohol-paralyzed brain had no control over her body, so she could only watch herself as she fell toward the pile of broken glass.

And just at the moment, she was about to fall....a long and strong hand, firmly clasped her waist and pulled her back.

In the next second, her body fell into a warm and tight embrace.

"How come you're so careless everywhere you go?"

A low and deep voice drifted down from her head, and when Sophia opened her eyes, she was confronted with Tyrone's falcon-like eyes.

Everything in the surroundings faded away, with only his delicate face left.

Dong, dong!

The heart was pounding so hard and fast that it was about to burst out her chest.

"Are you scared?"

Tyrone saw her not move and spoke again.

Sophia hugged his waist and called him in a low voice, "Tyrone."

Her voice was soft and glutinous, with a taste of coaxing like a cat.

Tyrone was frightened by her, and the anger instantly dissipated by half. He helped her stand up and held her with one hand, raising his eyes to look at Joanna who hurriedly chased after her.

"I'm sorry, Tyrone. Sophia said she was feeling a bit sick and wanted to go out for a breeze. I didn't think this would happen."

"It's okay, you didn't mean it either." In the meantime, Tyrone pressed the restless Sophia in his arms, "She is drunk. If she stays here, she will only cause a mess! You tell Sawyer that I'll take Sophia away first."

"Ok."

Sophia followed Tyrone outside, her footsteps getting more and more unsteady.

She was somewhat sensible, but she didn't know if she was too drunk, or if she didn't want to be sober. Her body was weak and stuck to Tyrone, allowing him to help her.

She almost slid to sit on the floor several times, and Tyrone simply bent down and held her in his arms.

Her cheek was pressed against his chest. She could hear his strong and powerful heartbeat through a thin layer of clothing, and her cheeks quietly blushed.

They walked to the parking lot, and the parking boy opened the car door, handed them the car keys, and left.

Tyrone carried Sophia to the co-pilot seat, bending down to put her in. But at this moment, Sophia slightly raised her hand, hugging his neck. Her red lips were less than two fingers away from his. And she said slowly, "Little Uncle, will you please not stay with the other people? I have no relatives left, only you..."

When she spoke, her breath snorted out, spraying over his face and lingering for a long time.

Tyrone felt uncomfortable and slightly turned his head away.