Fated love: the unwanted bride
Chapter 1000 - Chapter 1000 Chapter 1000 He is a Man with a Son

Chapter 1000: Chapter 1000: He is a Man with a Son Chapter 1000: Chapter 1000: He is a Man with a Son “`

His body broke down, but what could he do?

Butler Santana, though anxious, had no choice, and it wasn’t appropriate to ask too much.

All she could do was to fulfill her duties.

Charles Mcintosh walked to the smoking room and lit up a cigarette,

his profound visage now wore an added sense of melancholy and helplessness.

For a long time, he smoked and made a call to Lilac Serval.

“Little Lilac.”

“What is it?” Lilac Serval’s tone was indifferent, her face slightly cold.

“Bring Chale Cheney back to the country for a visit.”

“Tell me how.”

“…” Charles Mcintosh fell silent.

“Mr. Mcintosh, it’s Little Chale Cheney himself who refuses to go back now; he says he doesn’t like Mr. Cheney anymore.”

“When he’s older, he’ll understand,” Charles Mcintosh said helplessly.

“Yes, when he’s older, he’ll understand, but he’s not grown up yet, is he?” Lilac Serval said lightly, “So, he definitely doesn’t want to go back. No matter how much you reason with a child, they may not understand. What he might remember is that his father sent him away, that he wasn’t wanted anymore. You can’t view a child with an adult’s mindset.”

Lilac Serval’s words were clear and precise, but Charles Mcintosh was silent for a long time before he slowly began to speak–

“Mr. Cheney coughed up blood last night, his condition is very serious, and he still hasn’t woken up in the hospital room.”

Lilac Serval was startled: “Is it serious?”

She thought back to the phone call from yesterday.

In her mind, Mr. Cheney was not a fragile man.

Charles Mcintosh took a puff of his cigarette: “He hasn’t woken up, the doctors say he needs to be hospitalized for observation.”

“Once Mr. Cheney wakes up, I’ll have Little Chale Cheney call him,” Lilac Serval said, “Little Chale Cheney talks the most about Jasmine Yale these days, and about his classmates.”

To put it frankly, Little Chale Cheney still resented Mr. Cheney.

Perhaps Sylvan Cheney sending him away truly hurt his young soul.

Last night, the little guy had refused to talk to Mr. Cheney on the phone.

Today, she planned to coax him a bit.

“Mm, thank you,” Charles Mcintosh said.

“Why did Mr. Cheney cough up blood?”

“It’s probably due to overwork,” Charles Mcintosh didn’t elaborate.

Some things are better off known by fewer people.

“Tell Mr. Cheney to take better care of his health, after all… he has a son, he’s not like he used to be.”

Lilac Serval knew that the former Sylvan Cheney was reckless in his actions, insistent on doing everything himself.

But now it’s different, he has a son, if something were to happen to him, who would take care of Chale Cheney?

A person can be fearless on their own, but when there are bonds to consider, they shouldn’t only think of themselves.

“Mm,” Charles Mcintosh nodded, “Little Lilac… when will you come to Landon?”

“Me? Why would I go to Landon? Unless there’s a mission, I won’t go,” she said.

“I want to see you.” Charles Mcintosh’s deep eyes flickered, the depths shimmering with a profound glow, reflecting the light of the cigarette.

There was an obvious pause on the other end.

After a long while, the light laughter of Lilac Serval came through: “Why the sudden urge to see me? Do you think I look pretty good? Otherwise, I really don’t know what you would want to see me for.”

After all, they hadn’t seen each other for five years.

Charles Mcintosh’s brow furrowed, and he took a drag from his cigarette: “You’ve always looked good.”

Lilac Serval didn’t expect Charles Mcintosh to say that, and she choked up for a moment.

“I don’t have time to chat, I need to take Chale Cheney to the training field,” Lilac Serval said lightly, “It’s raining in Lonton today.”

“It’s sunny in Landon,” Charles Mcintosh said.

On the other end, Lilac Serval’s indifferent lips twitched slightly, but she said nothing and hung up the phone.

At this point, it was just past six in Lonton.

The rain outside the window wasn’t heavy, pitter-pattering against the windowpane.

“`

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