After she finished speaking, Ophelia Wilson was momentarily stunned, then laughed and shook her head, "Grace, you’re as kind as your mother. Don’t take my words to heart."
"No, Ophelia, you’re absolutely right. Why shouldn’t I uncover her identity? My mother was concerned about my father, but she almost drove Grandma sick with anger." Grace Wilson thought more and more that Ophelia’s words made sense, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Grace, even if you’re going to say that, it wouldn’t be good to cause a scene yourself." Ophelia hinted to Grace.
Grace paused, nodded, and said thoughtfully, "I understand."
"Ophelia, thank you, really thank you!" Grace had a solution and didn’t want to waste any more time here. She was eager to go back and deal with Sophie Wilson.
After saying goodbye to Ophelia, she quickly ran off.
Ophelia sat alone by the table, picked up her coffee, took a sip leisurely, and her lips curved into a wicked cold smile: "Sophie Wilson, she really isn’t dead."
Still bearing the Wilson surname, she had to say, when her aunt sent the child away back then, it was really considerate.
Even found a family with the Wilson surname to adopt her.
However, even with the Wilson surname, she can only be someone unrelated to the Wilson Clan. In the Imperial City’s Wilson Clan, there’s only one granddaughter—her!
Ophelia turned her head to look at the glaring sunlight outside the window, shining blindingly on the road, intended to blind people’s eyes.
But no amount of sunlight could dispel the darkness in Ophelia’s eyes.
Sophie Wilson, she could only blame Stephen Wilson for deciding to establish the company in the Imperial City.
If they were in Stephen Wilson’s hometown, that small city, they would never meet.
Sophie Wilson could still be comfortably the daughter of that small boss, without worrying about food and clothing.
But now... she absolutely cannot let Sophie Wilson stay comfortably in the Imperial City; she wants to ruin her reputation completely. Even if she doesn’t leave the Imperial City, she can only struggle at the bottom.
Never having the chance to contact her home, her parents.
Her parents are forever hers, not Sophie Wilson’s!
"Sophie." As Sophie Wilson opened the door of the private room, Clarissa Taylor stood up, smiling with her eyes beautifully curved.
Even though well past fifty, she maintained herself well, with time leaving only serenity on her, without much else.
The whole person was gentle, like a stream under moonlight, tranquil and beautiful, very comforting.
"Aunt Taylor." Sophie Wilson greeted with a smile and sat down, "How is your injury?"
"It’s long been fine." Clarissa laughed lightly, "If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have been so fortunate. I might still be lying in the hospital now."
"Stop, stop... don’t say those unlucky things." Sophie Wilson’s straightforward reaction amused Clarissa, "You child. I really feel a connection with you. Meeting you feels familiar as if we’ve known each other for a long time."
"Right, right, Aunt Taylor, I feel the same way!" Sophie Wilson said, nodding repeatedly.
Besides that indescribable sense of familiarity, she appreciated Clarissa’s way of doing things with her husband, Mason Wilson.
Inviting her out to meet for a meal, there was no fixed time directly set, but rather let her choose.
It’s known that generally, people in power for a long time like others to follow their timing in doing things.
ps: Recommending friend "Moon Leaning on West Window’s" contemporary romance novel "Sweet-marriage Bliss: Mr. Langdon, Strongly Pampered" "Except in bed, I don’t let her do any physical work," Augus Langdon said when answering what it means to pamper his wife.