Fated love: the unwanted bride Chapter 88 – Chapter 88: Chapter 088:1 Don't Have a Son Like You!

Chapter 88: Chapter 088:1 Don't Have a Son Like You!

Translator: 549690339

Jasmine Yale looked uncomfortable. “Chaley, aren't you afraid that I'm a bad person?”

Ain't no bad person that's this pretty. Jasy, even if you're a bad person. I'd be happy to be deceived by you.”

Chale Cheney looked up, grinning mischievously, revealing two rows of baby teeth.

Jasmine Yale's heart fluttered in response to the playful tease from the little fellow. This naughty boy, so skilled with flirty lines even at such a young age.

Imagine him when he's grown up.

Yet, his cuteness had left her blushing, she couldn't resist this charming little boy!

This angelic child brought out the maternal side in her, a feeling she had missed for a long time.

Jasmine Yale bent down and gently stroke his nose: “Little guy, you have a sweet tongue.”

“Jasy, I'm only sweet with you.”

Jasmine Yale laughed even more: “Have you had dinner? Are you hungry?”

“Let's go to the hospital first.”

Seeing his determination, Jasmine Yale had no choice but to follow him to the hospital.

She gave his wound a simple treatment; there was no serious issue.

Recalling the dangerous incident on the street, her heart pounded with lingering fear.

Such palpitations seemed to last forever.

By the time they left the hospital, it was already late in the day.

Night had fallen, the city lights were shining brightly.

Jasmine Yale took the little guy to a restaurant for a steak dinner. The little guy was ecstatic.

Chale Cheney was having fun with Jasmine Yale, he completely forgot about everything else.

Turns out Jasy is not only pretty but also very gentle.

No wonder Elder Cheney doesn't want me to see Jasy, afraid that I might take her away from him, right?

Such a jealous Elder Cheney!

It was 7 pm, the Cheney Residence was in total chaos!

“Mr. Cheney, we've checked all the surveillance, but we still can't find the young master.” The Butler Santana was all flustered, almost on the verge of tears.

Sylvan Cheney's face was gloomy, with one sweep of his hand, every vial and jar on the coffee table clattered to the ground!

“If Chale Cheney disappears, you'll all get out of Landon!”

“Mr. Cheney, Mr. Mcintosh is already looking for him, please calm down.”

Everyone held their breath, standing scared with heads bowed in fear.

The atmosphere in the living room was freezing, even the air seemed to turn into ice.

Everyone was cautious, fearing they might say something wrong.

Sylvan Cheney lit a cigarette, his facial features hardened and his eyes lost their spark, intimidating like King Shura in the dark of the night.

The nerve of the little creature! He had been neglecting him for a while and he thought it was just a joke.

Today, he thought he'd pull a disappearing act?

What a wretched temperament!

“Mr. Cheney, there's news. The young master got off at Flower Bay Road on bus number 522.” A servant ran over, trembling with fear.

Sylvan Cheney took a hard puff on his cigarette.

Does he dare throw a tantrum at him now?

Who's given him the guts to run away from home in such a big city as Landon?!

As the minutes and seconds ticked by, the clock ticking echoed in the silence.

After five more minutes, Charles Mcintosh's call came through.

“Mr. Cheney, the young master has been found.”

“Where is he?”

“At a western-style restaurant, with… Miss Yale.”

Sylvan Cheney's face went several shades darker, the hand holding the cigarette was frozen in place.

“Mr. Cheney, do you want me to bring the young master back?”

“Have someone keep an eye on him.”

“Yes, Mr. Cheney.”

Sylvan Cheney tossed away his cigarette and dialed Chale Cheney's number.

Meanwhile, Chale Cheney, engrossed in his steak, had oil smudges around his mouth, so Jasmine Yale wiped them off with a damp cloth.

“Eat slowly, no need to rush, there's more.”

Just as Chale Cheney was about to speak, his phone rang.

When he saw the caller ID, he panicked, covered the receiver, lowered his voice, and ran outside: “Dad, I was wrong.”

“Don't call me dad, I don't have a son like you!” Sylvan Cheney snarled.

“Oh, Uncle.”

At these times, Sylvan Cheney just wanted to grab Chale Cheney by the collar and give him a good thrashing..

Chapter end