Fated love: the unwanted bride

Chapter 348: Three Years Ago, Landon Hospital

Chapter 348: Chapter 348: Three Years Ago, Landon Hospital

Translator: 549690339

“Second place?” Sylvan Cheney furrowed his brows.

He had always been harsh on Chale Cheney, consistently demanding he be first in every aspect, so coming in second place called for introspection.

The successor of Sylvan Cheney can’t afford to show the slightest weakness or lack of ambition.

“Yes, second place.” Butler Santana nodded, patiently explaining, “The young master’s painting was the best originally, but because it was a class activity and it required participation from either a parent or a child. So, when the scores were combined, the young master only got second.”

“Why didn’t anyone accompany him?” Sylvan Cheney’s face turned sour.

“Mr. Mcintosh usually accompanied the young master, but this time he wasn’t there, and the young master was stubborn and didn’t let anyone accompany him.”

“What about Jasmine Yale?”

Sylvan Cheney held back his anger. Did she sign those agreement papers for mere show?

“Miss Yale wasn’t there,” Butler Santana had no choice but to say.

“Busy dating Joe Heath?” Sylvan Cheney sneered.

” ” Buter Santana didn’t dare to speak.

She still couldn’t read Mr. Cheney’s mood.

But it seemed like, Mr. Cheney wasn’t very pleased.

Till now, she wasn’t very clear about the relationship between Mr. Cheney and Jasmine Yale, she just saw that Mr. Cheney was very good to Jasmine.

Mr. Cheney’s intentions, she didn’t dare to guess.

Because, Mr. Cheney was equally good to Miss Yolanda as well.

She didn’t know if there was a distinction between these two types of “good”, but based on her current understanding, she couldn’t judge.

“You can go now,” Sylvan Cheney ordered.

“Yes, Mr. Cheney.”

Butler Santana left.

The living room became quiet again, without a single sound, even the delicate rustling of the bamboo in the courtyard could be heard.

Sylvan Cheney held the painting in his hand.

He could even imagine the little one being upset about getting second place.

He put down the painting.

Went upstairs.

Chale Cheney had already entered the land of dreams.

The little one was hugging a bear, burying his little head in the bear’s belly, his raven hair peeping out.

Sylvan Cheney didn’t turn on the light, he just looked at Chale Cheney with the help of the light coming in from the window.

He stretched out his hand to tuck him in, and his fingers didn’t move away, they gently caressed his facial features.

Sylvan Cheney’s eyes were unfathomably deep as his thumb brushed the little one’s smooth cheeks.

It has been many days, yet the kid hadn’t gained any weight.

Sylvan Cheney frowned.

The little one slept soundly, breathing evenly.

Sylvan Cheney sat by the bed for a long time.

Just as he was about to leave, suddenly- –

He saw a green item beside Chale Cheney’s pillow, shimmering with lustre under the dim light.

Sylvan Cheney’s eyes instantly became cold.

A feeling of a raging fire spreading around his chest, then suddenly, rendered desolate.

It was the bracelet he had given to Jasmine Yale.

She returned it again.

The light in Sylvan Cheney’s eyes dimmed bit by bit, just like the ocean beneath the night sky, deep and bottomless.

In the dark night, his fingers were cold.

After a long time, Sylvan Cheney went downstairs and returned to his bedroom.

Standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, he lit a cigarette.

The smoke swirled around, shrouding Sylvan Cheney’s face.

Under the light, his face appeared extremely haggard, with a touch of green at the bottom of his eyes.

The night of winter was particularly deep, and the wind outside began to howl bitterly, the air filled with wisps of white mist.

Sylvan Cheney’s brow knotted tightly, his thin lips pressed together, a hint of a hard-to-discern shine appeared in his deep eyes.

When he was halfway through his cigarette, he made a call to his spy, Lin Ye.

“Mr. Cheney.”

“Three years ago, in Landon Hospital, all of Jasmine Yale’s pregnancy check­up documents and related surveillance.”

“Yes, Mr.Cheney.”

Sylvan Cheney exhaled a mouthful of smoke and hung up the phone.