Fated love: the unwanted bride

Sylvan Cheney tossed away his cigarette, extinguishing it under the sole of his leather shoe before heading for the Cheney Residence with large strides.

The living room was brightly lit and warmed by the heater.

A pair of lady’s slippers positioned neatly at the entrance, which seemed untouched for a long time.

Sylvan Cheney took off his coat and settled himself on the couch.

Butler Santana instantly had someone prepare tea for Sylvan Cheney and started reporting recent matters to him.

The atmosphere in the living room was subtle, extremely quiet.

“Mr. Cheney, the young master has been very obedient, he’s been studying diligently for his mid-term exams,” said Butler Santana.

“How long has it been since Jasmine Yale last came?” Sylvan Cheney lifted his eyes to ask.

His eyes were deep, cloaked in an endless darkness.

Butler Santana’s heart skipped a beat.

She had intentionally skipped over the topic of Jasmine Yale while reporting to Mr. Cheney just now.

“She hasn’t been away for long. Miss Yale has been busy with overtime work and hasn’t had the chance to visit recently,” she replied.

“Exactly how many days?” Sylvan Cheney coldly asked.

“Four days.”

Sylvan Cheney repressed the rising impatience, his expression slightly easing.

“Mr. Cheney, Miss Yale is genuinely busy and that’s why she hasn’t been able to visit. She dearly misses the young master,” Butler Santana defended Jasmine Yale.

She also understood Jasmine’s predicaments—dating while raising a child is no simple task.

She also has her own life to lead.

“Butler Santana, I don’t like listening to lies,” Sylvan Cheney shot her a sharp glance.

Butler Santana trembled with fear.

“Mr. Cheney…”

“What is she so busy with?”

“I, I am not quite sure,” she replied.

“Is it that you are not sure or simply unwilling to say it?”

“M-Mr. Cheney…” Butler Santana lowered her head in fright, feeling a bone­chilling cold, “I truly don’t know.”

Sylvan Cheney’s finger tapped lightly on the table, his gaze grew resentful.

“It seems you are not fulfilling your duties as a housekeeper very well,” Sylvan Cheney said, “I’ll give you one more chance, tell me what Jasmine Yale has been up to.”

Butler Santana’s legs went weak, her face paled.

With a trembling voice, she replied—

“M-Mr. Cheney, Miss Yale may, may have been dating recently…”

Sylvan Cheney gave a cold, derisive laugh: “Is there anything you feel you can’t tell me? Is that why you’re so afraid?”

“Y-Yes,” she stammered.

Butler Santana dared not utter another word.

She had never seen Mr. Cheney this livid before.

When this man was angry, he was usually calm and composed, yet his tone was exceptionally stern and chilly.

Butler Santana could not gauge how angry Sylvan Cheney was.

However, it was said that Mr. Cheney used to treat jasmine very fondly, spoiling her like a sister.

Then… wouldn’t Mr. Cheney be happy that his sister had started dating?

Moreover, Jasmine Yale’s potential romantic partner was none other than Mr. Cheney’s friend, CEO Heath. That couldn’t be a bad thing.

Butler Santana was at an absolute loss.

At least at this moment, she couldn’t see any signs of joy on Mr. Cheney’s face.

Her heart was in tumult, she was completely restless.

“Bring me Chale Cheney’s homework,” Sylvan Cheney hid his unhappiness.

“Ah, okay,” she hastily agreed.

Butler Santana quickly left the tense atmosphere of the living room, taking a deep breath far from it.

She handed Sylvan Cheney Chale Cheney’s homework, along with his drawings and test papers.

Sylvan Cheney brow furrowed deeply, flipping through them seriously.

“Mr. Cheney, the young master takes schoolwork very seriously. You need not worry, his teachers and classmates all like him very much.”

When it came to Chale Cheney, Butler Santana could finally exhale a breath of relief.

She was aware of how much Mr. Cheney adored his sons.

As expected, Sylvan Cheney’s face softened ever so slightly.

Just then, Sylvan Cheney came across a certificate and a picture tucked within a textbook.

“What’s this?” Sylvan Cheney asked.

Butler Santana explained, “During a class activity a few days ago, the young master’s drawing won the second prize.”

(Your Mr. Cheney is back, oh no, he’s my Mr. Cheney, k •••)