"She will apologize." Charles Seymour’s gaze darkened as he gently stroked Sophie’s long hair and said coldly, "After humiliating Sophie, there’s no way she won’t apologize."
The icy severity in his tone made Mason Wilson’s heart tighten, and he couldn’t help but swallow hard. He was a bit impressed by his daughter’s composure.
How did Sophie manage to stay completely unaffected by Charles Seymour’s cold and stern deanor?
Mason Wilson had no intention of pleading for his sister. What Erie did was more than enough for him to hate her.
If it weren’t for Charles Seymour, Erie Wilson’s setup could have seriously hard Sophie.
If it weren’t for Charles Seymour, or if Charles Seymour’s power wasn’t so formidable, would his father have not targeted Sophie?
The thought of what could have happened made Mason Wilson’s hatred toward Erie Wilson irrepressible.
Fortunately, Charles Seymour controlled the situation and ensured Sophie wasn’t hard.
"Alright, it’s getting late. You two should rest well," Mason Wilson said as he stood up. They shouldn’t stay here much longer, lest they interrupt the two young ones in developing their relationship.
"Take care, Mom and Dad," Sophie stood up to see Mason Wilson and Clarissa Taylor out. After all, it wasn’t far—just next door.
Standing at the door, Sophie confird that her parents had entered the villa next door before closing the door.
Charles Seymour’s large hand gently stroked Sophie’s slightly cool cheek, frowning but saying nothing.
After all, he shouldn’t stop Sophie from seeing her own parents, but... he still felt a bit unhappy inside.
"What’s wrong, Mr. Seymour, are you in a bad mood?" Sophie, who could quickly sense soone’s emotional changes, placed her small hand over his and curiously asked.
"Your face is cold," Charles Seymour grumbled discontentedly while rubbing her cheek.
"Then let’s warm it up," Sophie grinned at Charles with sparkling eyes, as if a ray of sunshine had pierced his heart, making his heartbeat involuntarily quicken.
Wasn’t Sophie implying that?
Thinking along those lines, Charles Seymour lowered his head directly, aiming for... the sweet and irresistible red lips of a certain soone.
Then, Charles suddenly felt his hands empty as Sophie ducked down and hurried over to the radiator to warm herself up.
Charles Seymour remained in the pose of holding Sophie’s cheeks, blankly watching her like a large dog that’s been teased, looking dumbfounded.
Sophie hovered near the radiator, warming herself on both sides before turning playfully to Charles and saying, "All ward up."
"Huh? What’s the matter with you?" Sophie looked quizzically at the motionless Charles, her big, innocent eyes brimming with clarity. No matter what he thought, he couldn’t voice it.
So frustrated!
But... nothing could be done!
Because that person is Sophie.
Charles naturally retracted his arms, calmly saying, "Nothing." Then he asked considerately, "Are you warm?"
"Yes, I’m warm." Sophie cheerfully replied as she left the warmth of the radiator.
"That’s good, let’s head to the room." Charles reached out to hold Sophie’s hand, thinking that if he couldn’t get a kiss, holding her hand was the next best thing.
"Sure!" Sophie happily offered her hand and then, catching Charles completely off guard, suddenly jumped onto him and planted a firm kiss on his thin lips.
Charles instinctively held her tightly, but before he could react, he was "taken advantage of." He welcod such a surprise attack and, instantly retaliating, left the little mischief who ambushed him in complete defeat.
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