In the car, Charles Seymour hadn’t let go of Sophie Wilson’s hand at all, their fingers interlocked as they sat there: "Are you going to take a break before starting the new script?" "No." Sophie Wilson shook her head, "I’m not really interested in acting." She smiled as she spoke, pinching Charles Seymour’s fingers: "I seem to be genuinely interested in this script, other things..." Sophie Wilson paused and lamented, "It’s too hard, I think I’m more suited to being a lazybones who doesn’t work." The driver in the front drove steadily, used to hearing this often by now. If Miss Wilson wants to be a lazybones, it’s fine as long as the gentleman is willing to support her. As long as they’re happy, it’s all that matters. After Sophie Wilson said this, she noticed Charles Seymour didn’t reply, and her brows furrowed. What does he mean? Nᴇw ɴovel chaptᴇrs are published on 𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡⚑𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚⚑𝙣𝙚𝙩 Is he unwilling to support her? "Say something!" Sophie Wilson pinched Charles Seymour’s fingers again. Charles Seymour took a sharp breath, startling Sophie Wilson, who asked nervously, "What happened? Was I too rough? Did it hurt?" Charles Seymour stopped her from anxiously checking his hand, speaking in a low, raspy voice, "It tickles." "Tickles?" Sophie Wilson was puzzled, how could a pinch make him ticklish? To verify, Sophie Wilson pinched his fingers again twice, then looked up, her gaze meeting Charles Seymour’s deep eyes, which seemed to have dark magma churning in them. Sophie Wilson realized, albeit vaguely, what he meant. Startled, she quickly let go of Charles Seymour’s hand and backed away. Unfortunately, her movements weren’t faster than Charles Seymour’s. Charles Seymour clasped her small hand with a large one, extended his long arm, and encircled her in his arms. "Where do you think you’re going?" Charles Seymour asked softly, his lips almost brushing against Sophie Wilson’s ear due to their position, practically speaking right into her ear. The warm breath he exhaled swept over Sophie Wilson’s ear, causing the milky-white ear to flush a shade just like the most beautiful red ruby, making him want to take a bite. "Move away." Sophie Wilson, embarrassed, pushed Charles Seymour away with her free hand, wondering why he was so close to her. Sophie Wilson used her unrestrained hand to scratch her itchy ear, then "fiercely" glared at Charles Seymour, questioning why he needed to be so near when talking? Charles Seymour’s lips curved, as if tiny stars flickered in his eyes: "No." His domineering tone concluded as he pulled Sophie Wilson back into his arms, refusing to let go. Now that he had finally found her again, why would he want to be away from her? Sophie Wilson was genuinely at a loss with this unreasonable man. Fine, fine, if he wants to hold her, let him. Sophie Wilson conceded. The two returned home, intimately cozy, to live their little lives, while over on the other side, Grace Wilson got home to find it still in its usual disarray, causing her to frown: "Mom, where’s Dad?" "Who knows what he’s up to? Never home." Lily Warren spoke discontentedly. "Mom, what’s going on?" Grace Wilson was startled. In her memory, her mom had always loved her dad and never complained about anything. "What’s wrong with me? I’m always busy at home, and him?" Lily Warren threw the cloth in her hand heavily onto the table.