Fated love: the unwanted bride

Jasmine Yale bit her lip: “I just want to see him, can you take me there?”

“I can’t make that decision.”

Jasmine Yale was annoyed, but kept her smile.

“I’m also involved, can’t I see him?” Jasmine Yale continued to press Charles McIntosh.

“If Mr. Cheney says you can see him, then you can.”

“I don’t want to call him.”

“Then I can’t do anything about it.”

Charles McIntosh didn’t hang up on Jasmine Yale, leaving her speechless.

Both sides fell silent.

Thinking that this might be the last time she would see Hans Colin, Jasmine Yale gritted her teeth: “Forget it, I’ll call Mr. Cheney.”

“Hmm.”

At this time, Charles McIntosh didn’t say anything.

Jasmine Yale knew that Charles McIntosh was loyal to Sylvan Cheney, he would never stand by her side.

With a hardened scalp, she dialed Sylvan Cheney’s number.

“Mr. Cheney.”

“Hmm?”

“I need your help.”

“Speak.”

“Can you let me visit Hans Colin in prison? No other reason, just to see him one last time, during university…”

“I have no interest in your past relationship with him!”

“Oh, I won’t discuss it.” Jasmine Yale pouted, “Can I visit him then?”

“Little Chale refuses to eat, come and feed him.”

“…” Jasmine Yale looked up to the sky, why was the little guy refusing to eat again?

She clearly remembered him being a good boy.

“Did you hit him?” Jasmine Yale asked.

“Did you scold him?”

With a “pop”, Sylvan Cheney hung up the phone.

“…” Jasmine Yale held her forehead.

Was Sylvan Cheney naturally cold? Why did he not answer a question? Or did he disdain to answer her?

She was worried about Little Chale, so she quickly collected her things and took a car to the Cheney Residence.

It was Butler Santana who greeted her at the door.

“Butler Santana, is Little Chale refusing to eat?”

“Yes, Miss Yale, he’s throwing a tantrum.” Butler Santana said.

She wasn’t familiar with Jasmine Yale, but she had heard that Jasmine Yale had lived in the Cheney Residence for twelve years.

Later, she heard that Mr. Cheney was tired of her and drove her out.

But she always felt that what she heard and saw didn’t match.

“Throwing a tantrum? Who’s he upset with?”

Jasmine Yale found it funny, the little fellow wasn’t very old, but he was already capable of throwing a tantrum.

Such a temper, quite a formidable one.

“With Mr. Cheney.”

“Ah? Why?” Jasmine Yale followed Butler Santana inside.

“Today is Saturday, the young master doesn’t have school, but insisted on Mr. Cheney taking him out to play. Mr. Cheney was too busy, so he refused, causing the young master to throw a tantrum.”

“Why didn’t he look for me?”

As if Sylvan Cheney, that ice cold man, would be interested in playing with kids.

He was like a big ice cube, cold and rigid, unaffected by the sun.

Entering the living room, sure enough, Sylvan Cheney sat on the sofa reading the newspaper, while the little fellow was far off, lying at a small table, drawing.

The little fellow had an unhappy face, pouting.

Jasmine Yale walked over and heard the little fellow muttering: “Big Baddy, Big Baddy…”

“Little Chale!” Jasmine Yale bent down, looking at him with a smile.

“Jasy!”

The joy in Chale Cheney’s eyes was immediate, he flung his arms open and dove into her arms.

Sylvan Cheney put down his newspaper, glanced at her, his eyes softened significantly.

“What are you doing?”

“Drawing.”

“Would you like Jasy to play blocks with you?”

“Yes.”

Little Chale sat on the soft carpet, brought out all his precious blocks, and pulled Jasmine Yale down to sit with him.

Jasmine Yale also sat on the carpet, sitting next to him shoulder to shoulder..