Jim Perry felt a bit anxious inside, but could only wait.
Then, take care of the company, wait for the boss to come back.
In the evening, Sophie Wilson took a bath, changed into pajamas, and sat on the bed, looking at Charles Seymour’s serious face, she couldn’t help but chuckle: "Darling, can’t you relax your face a bit?"
Charles Seymour’s lips twitched slightly, a chill appearing suddenly.
Sophie Wilson held her forehead: "You better not force it."
"Darling, wait for me to wake up, and then give me a loving kiss." Sophie Wilson lay down on the bed, giving Charles Seymour a playful wink.
Charles Seymour nodded solemnly, his serious demeanor as if facing the world’s toughest problem.
Sophie Wilson couldn’t help but smile gently, this guy.
After she lay down, Charles Seymour opened the box beside him, releasing wisps of cold air.
He took out a syringe, carefully drawing the stored liquid into it, disinfected Sophie Wilson, and with needle in hand, directly injected it without the slightest hesitation, pushing in the liquid, then pulling out the needle.
Only then did Charles Seymour look at Sophie Wilson, softly saying, "Just sleep for a while."
"Okay." Sophie Wilson nodded and slowly closed her eyes.
The effects of the medication quickly took over, leading her into a deep slumber.
Charles Seymour methodically tidied up, then connected all the monitoring instruments.
After finishing everything, he picked up his things, went out, and gently closed the door, so as not to wake the sleeping Sophie Wilson.
As soon as the door closed, Charles Seymour’s legs went weak, and had he not caught himself against the wall, he would have collapsed onto the floor.
"Sir." The butler looked at Charles Seymour with concern.
Charles Seymour shook his head, didn’t speak, and returned to his bedroom.
Once inside, the computer was on, displaying the image of Sophie Wilson lying in bed, her breathing steady, as if she was merely asleep.
Whether she could awaken depended on whether the drug he developed would be effective.
Charles Seymour just watched, motionless, as time passed for an hour until a knock on the door finally stirred him: "Come in."
His voice was so hoarse that even he couldn’t stand it, Charles Seymour furrowed his brow slightly and cleared his throat.
The butler came in and said, "Sir, you should rest."
Charles Seymour hadn’t expected the butler to come in and say this, his displeasure barely flashed in his eyes, but the butler continued, "If you don’t rest well, I’ll tell Miss Wilson."
Charles Seymour glanced at the butler, then got up and went to the bathroom.
The sound of running water began, as he obediently took a shower to prepare for rest.
The butler sighed lightly, knowing that only Miss Wilson had influence over the gentleman right now.
The butler withdrew, not worried about the gentleman failing to rest well; he knew, for Miss Wilson’s sake, the gentleman wouldn’t falter at this moment.
In the bathroom, Charles Seymour tilted his head back, allowing the water to wash over his face, the suffocating sensation clearing his mind a bit.
It’s going to be okay, he will definitely succeed.
He was sure there was no mistake; he had meticulously calculated several times, and Sophie wouldn’t bear to leave him alone.
Thinking of this, Charles Seymour suppressed the anxiety that felt like being grilled over a fire, quickly freshened up, and went to rest, waiting for Sophie to wake up.