Before Sophie Wilson could figure out what exactly was going on, the door burst open with a swoosh.
Charles Seymour stood in the doorway with a dark expression. The warm sunset light flooded most of the room, yet it still couldn’t disperse the dense clouds on his face.
Sophie blinked her eyes—he seemed... well, a bit... unhappy, it appeared.
"What did you just say?" Charles spoke, the temperature in the room plummeting.
Sophie extended her index finger and gently poked Charles’s arm, like a wobbly little kitten still unsteady on its feet, playfully teasing him.
Charles lowered his gaze, watching that pale tender fingertip poke lightly at his arm.
The fingertip was healthy pink, the nails full and glossy; with each poke, a part of his heart softened.
Sophie was poking him to divert attention, but suddenly, warmth enveloped her hand as a strong hand firmly grasped it.
Instinctively looking up, she fell straight into the endless starry sea of indulgence in his eyes.
Her heart skipped a beat, and a wave of heat washed over her cheeks.
He, he, he... what kind of gaze was that?
How could someone seduce just with their eyes?
He was playing foul, ahhhhhhh!!!!!!
"How would you like to serve?" Charles’s sexy voice, slightly hoarse, was like a fine silk gently brushing against Sophie’s ears, instantly making them feel scorching hot.
Sophie was so flustered and her palms became sweaty.
Seeing the teasing in Charles’s eyes, Sophie snorted inwardly, letting her defiant thoughts take the upper hand. She gave him a bright smile and said very righteously, "I’m here to call you for dinner. The service of calling you to eat when it’s time for meals."
Sophie emphasized the word "service" particularly gravely, successfully witnessing Charles’s expression freeze for a moment, and her heart instantly felt triumphant.
Withdrawing her hand from his large one, Sophie smugly patted his shoulder and advised earnestly, "Young man, don’t let your imagination run wild!"
After saying this, she turned around, bouncing downstairs with the glee of someone who just won a battle.
Luckily, she didn’t have a tail; otherwise, it might have flipped up to the sky.
Watching Sophie’s triumphant back as she went downstairs, Charles couldn’t help but shake his head affectionately and chuckle softly.
He turned and entered the room, picking up the chair that had fallen over. He was genuinely frightened earlier.
This little rascal just loves to tease him and then leaves him hanging.
Charles shook his head lightly with a helpless sigh, yet he couldn’t help but indulge her.
When it was time to go downstairs for dinner, Sophie had already returned to her usual self. While eating, she said to Charles, "Do you know of any good lawyers?"
Charles looked at Sophie, asking silently.
"I want to reclaim what’s mine," a hint of coldness flashed in Sophie’s eyes.
Charles did not answer Sophie but directly picked up his phone, dialed, and upon connecting, said, "Proceed."
Then he hung up the call and said to Sophie, "The lawyer will be ready to accompany you tomorrow to reclaim the company and property."
Sophie was momentarily stunned, then couldn’t help but laugh as she asked, "You’ve planned this all along, huh?"
"Didn’t know when you’d make a move." Charles’s words were plain, but the underlying meaning was anything but simple.
He had prepared well in advance to reclaim everything that belonged to her at any moment.