Fated love: the unwanted bride

Jasmine Yale looked out the window. Somehow, there was no snow in the city area, just gloom.

It seemed that Mt. Maple had a lower temperature, which led to such heavy snow.

Jasmine Yale drew the curtains and rummaged through the wardrobe for wool.

She promised to knit scarves for both Chale Cheney and Sylvan Cheney.

She chose a lovely tender yellow color for Chale Cheney and a low-key smoky grey for Sylvan Cheney.

It was the last thing she did for this father and son duo.

Years later, she was merely a passerby in their lives, soundlessly fading away.

She sat quietly on the sofa, knitting the scarves without uttering a word.

After leaving her place, Sylvan Cheney went to the Property Registration Office.

His mother’s large inheritance had been handed to him by Spencer Childe, and he needed to guard against Teagan Cheney’s unbridled ambitions.

He took care of the procedures early to avoid giving rise to unnecessary complications.

Though Qiana Childe’s inheritance was not much, it was primarily composed of priceless antiques, paintings, and jewelry.

“Mr. Cheney, do you want all the property under your name?” Lawyer Connor asked.

“Transfer it to her.”

Sylvan Cheney handed over a marriage certificate.

He lit a cigarette, an aloof and indifferent expression on his face.

Lawyer Connor was astonished but nodded, “Alright, Mr. Cheney, I’ll take care of it immediately.”

“Hmm.”

After the lawyer left, Sylvan Cheney stood alone by the window, smoking.

The weather outside was gloomy.

…

Half a month later.

Jasmine Yale finally finished knitting scarves for the father and son duo.

During the day she worked, and in the evenings she stopped gaming to knit the scarves.

Having not practised for many years, she was surprised to find that her craftsmanship was still fairly good.

The small scarf she knitted for Chale Cheney was especially cute and she felt a burden being lifted off her chest.

Sylvan Cheney hadn’t visited her again in the past half month, but occasionally he would call to ask about her well-being.

Seemingly, he was out of town on a business trip.

Meanwhile, Jasmine hadn’t seen Joe Heath for half a month either.

Life had suddenly grew quiet without Joe Heath’s incessant chatter in her ear.

In the harsh December cold, the weather was particularly freezing.

When she finished work in the evening, it was already dark.

“Miss Yale, I’m free today. Shall we meet tonight?”

Jasmine clutched her phone, a call coming in.

The young man’s voice was gentle and aloof, devoid of desire and demand, just like his name, Haynes Seasons.

She tightened her scarf around her, looking a little taken aback: “Didn’t you say you were overseas and didn’t have time? How come you’re suddenly back in Landon?”

She thought he would be away for a while longer.

In an instant, her heart skipped a beat.

“Something came up, so I returned.”

“How long are you back for?”

“Three days.”

Jasmine held the phone, her eyes imbued with a calm warmth, suddenly at a loss for words.

Her heart felt as if a hand had suddenly squeezed it tightly.

“Miss Yale, I still have to go abroad to take care of Muse. If you’ve made up your mind, let’s talk tonight,” Haynes Seasons continued.

“Where should we meet?” Jasmine’s voice was a bit shaky.

“Let’s meet at the café at Five Star Square.”

Wind howled from the other side of the phone, Haynes Seasons must have been outdoors.

A sense of bewilderment flashed through Jasmine’s eyes.

After a long while, she nodded: “Alright.”

“Okay, I’ll drive there first.”

After hanging up the phone, Jasmine stood there for a long time, barely feeling the sting of the wind against her face.

Haynes Seasons, the emerging real estate tycoon.

But that was just his public identity. He also had another hidden identity – he was a hypnotist.