Charles Seymour directly answered Old Mr. Wilson this ti: "Disgust you."
But these simple and direct words seed to infuriate even more.
Old Mr. Wilson felt a rush of blood surge to his brain, and with a buzzing sound, his vision blacked out, and he nearly fainted.
"Charles Seymour, don’t go too far!" Old Mr. Wilson gritted his teeth and shouted angrily, but his voice trembled a bit from the anger, so... it sounded sowhat less imposing.
"How is it too much to stand up for my own woman?" Charles Seymour’s cold, emotionless gaze fell upon Old Mr. Wilson as he spoke matter-of-factly.
"All for a woman?" Old Mr. Wilson sneered, "Raising the acquisition price for a woman, not using the most suitable price for purchase, is this sothing a businessman would do?"
"Charles Seymour, don’t make yourself sound so noble. You’re targeting Jas Reed, aren’t you? If you want to deal with Jas Reed, face him directly. Taking it out on innocent people, what kind of capability is that?"
Old Mr. Wilson’s words made Jim Perry next door curl his lips in mockery.
Old Mr. Wilson is shaless.
Wanting to take advantage of Jas Reed but unwilling to bear any risk.
When there are benefits, he ties himself to Jas Reed; when there aren’t, he distances himself clearly. One must admit that Old Mr. Wilson is quite a character.
Of course, Jim Perry wasn’t going to voice any opinions; after all, Mason Wilson was beside him.
After all, that is Mason’s father, so he would show so consideration.
It’s just a pity, really—Mason Wilson, such a fine person, but to have such an eccentric father, is really unfortunate.
"Face Jas Reed?" Charles Seymour looked at Old Mr. Wilson, his gaze increasingly like he was staring at an idiot, "Have you ever seen soone quarrel with an ant?"
Old Mr. Wilson’s face sank. Was this the status Jas Reed held in Charles Seymour’s eyes?
No.
It should be that Jas Reed never even entered Charles Seymour’s sight!
If Jas Reed knew this was how Charles Seymour viewed him, how would he feel?
From his interactions, he knew Jas Reed always considered Charles Seymour his rival, while that rival never even gave him a second thought, which truly was a pathetic state of affairs.
"Compared to being a businessman, my primary identity is being Sophie’s man." Charles Seymour shifted the topic to the main issue, glaring coldly at Old Mr. Wilson, "This is the price you pay for ssing with my Sophie."
Old Mr. Wilson opened and closed his mouth several tis before finally finding his voice again, "Charles Seymour, you’re crazy, aren’t you?"
"For a woman, you’ve gone mad?" Old Mr. Wilson couldn’t, for the life of him, understand the way Charles Seymour’s mind worked.
Even if Charles Seymour doted on Sophie, did he really have to go this far?
If this isn’t madness, what is?
"Wrong." Charles Seymour’s rebuttal made Old Mr. Wilson’s heart leap with joy; he knew that Charles Seymour was just bluffing earlier.
How could anyone purchase a company at any cost and exact revenge for a woman?
This was completely irrational.
As long as Charles Seymour didn’t value Sophie that much and it was for so other reason, they could all talk it out. He didn’t want to bear the repercussions of the Peace Group’s retaliation for his past conflicts with Sophie.
Unfortunately, Charles Seymour’s next words shattered Old Mr. Wilson’s hopeful illusions completely: "Because she is Sophie."
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