Emerie abruptly stood up, and with fierce anger threw a line: "Wilson Clan, you’ll never get to go back!"

After that, she left in big strides without turning her head back.

Sophie Wilson propped her chin up with one hand, leaning on the table, and watched Emerie’s departing figure with amusement. Then, as the door of the reception room slowly closed, she leisurely took out her phone and made a call to Charles Seymour.

"Hey darling, Emerie Wilson just ran to my company to flaunt herself." Sophie started lazily.

The lazy voice carried a husky sensuality, causing Charles Seymour, who suddenly received the call, to tense up and his eyes darkened. He silently murmured, vixen!

His Sophie was becoming increasingly enchanting, though she seemed completely unaware, always unintentionally teasing him.

"What did you do?" Charles Seymour, after all, was Charles Seymour, and he started speaking, voice as usual, without revealing any change in emotion.

"Oh, nothing much. I just secretly helped Benjamin Walton a bit, the enemy of the enemy... is still an enemy, but can be used for now." Sophie laughed softly, her playful laughter like the soft paw pads of a kitten, scratching at Charles Seymour’s heart.

Even without seeing Sophie’s expression, Charles Seymour knew through her voice that she must be wearing a cunning smile, subtly playing Emerie.

That mischievous look was incredibly alluring to him.

Charles Seymour had to be thankful, it was just a phone call. If Sophie had been in front of him... hmm, he wouldn’t do anything, since Sophie’s body wasn’t fully recovered yet.

But soon...

Thinking of this, the intense flames in Charles Seymour’s eyes flowed in dark red like sticky lava. Some desires, the more suppressed, will burst uncontrollably when they erupt, especially since his wish to "be with" Sophie was not just physical; he wanted to ensure Sophie, from her soul to her body, belonged entirely to him.

The crazy possessiveness roared and howled inside Charles Seymour, like a ferocious beast bound by layers of chains, and he knew those chains of reason were thinning, his patience lasting only until the day Sophie’s body was fully recovered.

"Naughty." Charles Seymour’s voice, as usual, was cold, but because he was speaking to Sophie, there was a hint of indulgent amusement.

"With Sophie’s help, the final netting will be quicker."

Listening to Charles Seymour’s words, Sophie burst into laughter: "I hadn’t planned to assist; it was Emerie who insisted on coming. If I don’t act, I would definitely be ungrateful to her sincerity in coming over."

"Alright, I won’t bother you anymore, go ahead with your work." After saying this, Sophie made a smacking sound with her mouth on the phone before hanging up.

In the conference room of Peace Group, Jim Perry glanced at his watch in confusion. The meeting time was nearly up, yet the boss wasn’t here?

The boss always arrived five minutes early, so there were only two minutes left. What had happened?

Just as the meeting time arrived, Charles Seymour pushed the door open and walked in. It was obvious that his hair was half-dry.

Passing by Jim Perry, he could smell the fresh scent of body wash from the boss.

Jim Perry stared curiously at his boss, whose expression was as usual, seating himself at the head of the table. Meanwhile, he pondered why the boss was showering in broad daylight.