Fated love: the unwanted bride-Chapter 943 - Is He Calling for Chale Cheney
Chapter 943: Chapter 943: Is He Calling for ‘Chale Cheney’?
Chapter 943: Chapter 943: Is He Calling for ‘Chale Cheney’?
“Hmm?” Sylvan Cheney tilted his head and looked towards her.
“My father, my dad, who is my biological dad?” Jasmine Yale asked again.
“I don’t know who your dad is, but I know who your child’s dad is,” Sylvan Cheney replied, pressing her down, his eyes squinting, and his lips curving in a drunk smile.
“What are you talking about,” Jasmine Yale supported her forehead, “It’s impossible to talk… Then do you know where Kaine Zahir went?”
“I don’t know.”
“How about Nancy Emmett and Kamila Zahir?”
“I don’t know.
“Then do you know how much funds are under your name?” Jasmine Yale asked frantically.
“Nothing at all…”
Jasmine Yale: “…”
She stopped asking further, seeing that he was truly drunk.
Yet, this man, even when drunk, kept his mouth sealed tight; unexpectedly, it seemed to be a habit formed from years of caution.
“Don’t know anything?” Who is he fooling?
“Then tell me, have you ever been to Willow Wave City…” Jasmine Yale asked again.
Suddenly, Sylvan Cheney hugged her waist, tiredly rested his head on her shoulder, closed his eyes, and stopped speaking.
His weight pressed down, making Jasmine Yale even more helpless.
“Get up, do you know you’re very heavy.”
“…”
Sylvan Cheney did not speak, his hand wrapped around her waist, holding her tightly.
His breathing gradually steadied.
His face touched her cheek, scalding hot.
“Sylvan Cheney? Sylvan Cheney…” She called several times, but there was no response.
Jasmine Yale’s hand loosened, laying down his tie.
Eventually, his breathing became more peaceful.
He fell asleep.
However, his hand still encircled her waist tight, as if afraid she would run away.
Whenever Jasmine Yale moved, his grip tightened, as if it was a subconscious action.
There had hardly been any interaction between them for nearly six months; she didn’t know what prompted him to suddenly act drunk.
A big man, just leaning on her shoulder, pressing against her face.
Jasmine Yale was pressed by him, lying on the seat, utterly helpless.
Jasmine Yale was also very tired, sighed exhaustedly, and closed her eyes.
At this moment, she could not run even if she wanted to.
In the car, everything suddenly plunged into darkness and endless silence.
This chapt𝒆r is updated by frёewebηovel.cѳm.
The faint moonlight entered the car; with the wind blowing, one could hear the rustling of the leaves outside.
The summer insects hid in the grass, chirping long and short, non-stop.
The summer night was serene, the sky silent.
Jasmine Yale lay with her eyes closed, her mind in chaos, as if tangled up in threads, unable to find any leads.
Sylvan Cheney handled his liquor well, he wouldn’t vomit randomly, nor would he act in unimaginable ways.
He slept quietly, concealing his usual sharpness, and even retracted the cold indifference that pushed people thousands of miles away.
Jasmine Yale felt helpless as he clenched her waist very tightly.
She waited for him to fall deeply asleep before trying to slip away.
Sylvan Cheney’s palm was burning hot, sending waves of heat across her waist.
His body still carried that familiar scent of Agarwood Fragrance, faintly mixed with the smell of alcohol, assaulting her thoughts.
“Chale Cheney…” Suddenly, the man in his sleep furrowed his eyebrows and murmured.
His voice was not loud, but very clear.
Jasmine Yale’s heart stirred; was he calling for “Chale Cheney”?
By the moonlight, she saw the exhaustion and haggardness on the face of her man.
She once thought he had given up on Chale Cheney; it seemed that deep down, he still longed for his son…
Thinking of that little guy, Jasmine Yale’s heart was also tumultuous.
Sylvan Cheney could still call him if he missed him, but when she missed him, she could only suppress it.
