Chapter 813: Chapter 813

Jameson halted in his tracks and squinted when he heard the icy voice from behind. Yawning, he turned around and questioned, “Josh, what’s the matter? It’s late, and I’d like to rest.”

“Jimmy, you put on a good show. Isn’t it killing two birds with one stone?” Josh commented as he took a few steps closer, examining Jameson with a sharp gaze.

“Huh?” Jameson tilted his head, feigning ignorance.

Cutting to the chase, Josh accused, “You set up David’s car accident, didn’t you?”

Jameson still acted like he was confused. “What?”

Seeing through Jameson’s act, Josh continued, “You sent your men to screw up David’s car, but you didn’t want him dead, just crippled.

“Then, you offered a solution to Dad by introducing Ms. Alyssa to him, which earned you cookie points.

You proved yourself capable of sharing his worries. Bravo, Jimmy! That was some slick move.”

Jameson adjusted his glasses and lifted his chin. He erupted into a series of laughter that echoed in the corridor, sending goosebumps down Josh’s skin.

“Josh, how did you even become the president of the Schmidt Group? You could have been a great screenwriter instead of being crushed by Jonah Taylor and Jasper Beckett in business!” Jameson jeered while laughing until he was out of breath.

Fueled by resentment, Joshhed his jaw and hissed, “Jameson Schmidt!”

“David’s accident has nothing to do with me. If you still insist that I played a role, I can only say that I have jinxed him,” Jameson offered, then left.

Josh took out his phone and ended the recording with a scheming look.

Back in the bedroom, Jameson took a shower after taking off his suit. Then, he poured himself a glass of red wine while sitting on the couch.

He felt relaxed, joyful, and refreshed. Sometimes, it felt better to condemn someone to hell on earth than to take his life.

Carl knocked on the door and entered, locking it behind him. “Mr. Schmidt, did you ask for me?”

“Have you taken care of the aftermath?” Jameson asked, taking a sip of red wine.

“Yes. The lorry driver has admitted guilt. He won’t say another word.”

“Great. I’ll visit Belbanks with Victor tomorrow to get Ms. Alyssa to treat David.”

“Huh? Why, though? How would Victor know about Ms. Alyssa-”

“I made the suggestion.”

Carl, looking astonished, said, “Why would you save David? What if Ms. Alyssa managed to make him walk again?”

“That’s impossible. She’s a doctor, not God,” Jameson said with a sneer.

He had orchestrated the accident that permanently crushed David’s legs. No one could restore them.

“I made the suggestion to show that I will help David despite the bad blood between us. Victor will remember my help. Even if we fail to treat David’s legs, Victor will still be grateful to me.”

Carl gasped, realizing, “You’re smart!”

“Victor can’t do anything about his favorite son,” Jameson remarked.

Standing before the dark windows, he swirled the red wine with an ominous look in his eyes. “Winston Taylor will never marry his daughter off to a cripple. I am Victor’s only hope now.” 3