"You should investigate the people around you." Charles Seymour’s words made Mason Wilson gasp in shock and ask, "What do you mean?"
After Mason Wilson said this, he noticed that Charles Seymour’s gaze became increasingly cold, with an indescribable emotion in it, piercing his heart like a needle, seemingly wanting to pierce through the thin paper he had long kept hidden.
"Mr. Wilson, although the Wilson Corporation in Imperial City’s business circle isn’t as influential as Seymour, Clark and White, it’s still closely following behind. Now you’re telling me that with the connections you have, you can’t investigate the events from back then..."
Charles Seymour paused, his eyes mocking coldly: "Is it that you can’t investigate, or you don’t want to?"
Mason Wilson’s mouth moved as if wanting to say something, but his lips were stuck as if glued shut.
Charles Seymour’s lip curled into a knife-like sneer, cutting through Mason Wilson’s heart with pain.
"Mr. Wilson, why look for the doctors and nurses from back then, shouldn’t you be looking into the family members who could have access to the child?" Charles Seymour spoke, every word clear and cold like ice, rolling over his heart, smoothing the edges and taking away the warmth of his blood.
"When Clarissa was giving birth, people from both the Wilson and Taylor families arrived. Besides her postpartum hemorrhage during the rescue, another incident occurred back then, you won’t forget that, will you?" Charles Seymour showed no intention of letting Mason Wilson go, his indifferent voice twisted into a solid rope around Mason Wilson’s neck, dragging him back into those chaotic days.
Mason Wilson’s face whitened a bit more, and Charles Seymour, in his emotionless voice, continued: "Of course you remember, because Chaya Davis, who suddenly went into labor, was also your sister’s good friend, growing up in your house." Google seaʀᴄh 𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡•𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚⚫𝙣𝙚𝙩
Mason Wilson’s Adam’s apple moved with difficulty, his hands slowly clenching, a thought in his mind screaming to stop Charles Seymour, yet a desire was forming to confront the answer.
Charles Seymour cared not for Mason Wilson’s internal conflict, continuing, "Chaya Davis gave birth to a stillborn, was that child really dead?"
Mason Wilson’s hands tightened suddenly, crumpling his neatly ironed pants, while Charles Seymour dropped a bombshell in his ear: "That child was raised by you, wasn’t it?"
"No, impossible!" Mason Wilson shook his head in denial without even thinking; he couldn’t believe Charles Seymour’s suspicion.
Charles Seymour’s lips were thinly sealed, the sarcasm in his eyes stabbing Mason Wilson’s heart like needles: "Is it impossible, or do you just not want to admit it?"
Charles Seymour came today not intending to leave Mason Wilson any room to retreat: "At that time, under those circumstances, only family members could have access to the child. While Clarissa was under emergency care for hemorrhage, and Chaya Davis had just given birth to a stillborn, there was only one person who was idle..."
"No, it won’t be..." Mason Wilson vehemently denied it; he didn’t want to admit this answer.
Unfortunately, Charles Seymour had no intention of letting him go: "Emerie Wilson, your sister; she was familiar with both families, could move about freely, and could easily see the child!"
"No way!" Mason Wilson shouted, standing up abruptly, knocking over the chair with a bang.