Fated love: the unwanted bride
Chapter 998 - Chapter 998 Chapter 998 Chale Cheney... Are You Okay

Chapter 998: Chapter 998: Chale Cheney… Are You Okay? Chapter 998: Chapter 998: Chale Cheney… Are You Okay? “Apart from becoming increasingly thin and listless, there really wasn’t any other problem.

Butler Santana took great care of it, yet it never recovered to its former self, remaining gloomy all day long.

Butler Santana had been serving Riceball for three years, and she had never seen Riceball in such discomfort.

Perhaps… it truly missed its little master too much.

Not to mention how much it missed, she missed too.

It has been almost half a year since she last saw Chale Cheney, and she had no idea whether he had grown taller or if he got fatter or thinner.

Going to that kind of place… he probably didn’t get fat.

Butler Santana only heard a little about the training camp, but even that little was enough to make her shudder with fear.

It was called the Devil’s summer camp.

Chale Cheney hadn’t taken many of his belongings with him, his room remained as it was before.

She often saw Mr. Cheney sitting in the young master’s room all by himself, doing nothing, just silently sitting there.

Sometimes he would smoke a cigarette, but most of the time he just sat quietly.

Deep into the night, the Cheney Residence was incredibly quiet.

The master bedroom.

Sylvan Cheney, suffering from a splitting headache after getting drunk, furrowed his brows tightly, unable to fall asleep no matter what.

The bedroom was dark, with no lights on.

Sylvan Cheney got up and took a painkiller, but the feeling of his head splitting open didn’t subside at all.

Alcohol and darkness stimulated his nerves, and he couldn’t find an exit or a glimmer of light anywhere.

Sylvan Cheney didn’t turn on the light, he just lay in bed quietly, his brows furrowed.

His hand found the mobile phone by the side of the bed.

He didn’t know what time it was, he only knew it was deep into the night.

In his groggy state, he found a number and dialed it.

“Mr. Cheney.” Lilac Serval was preparing dinner, she washed her hands and hurried to answer the phone.

She didn’t expect it to be Sylvan Cheney.

“…”

“Mr. Cheney?” She called out tentatively again, was it a wrong number?

“Chale…is he alright?” Sylvan’s husky, low voice spread out in the darkness, resonating like bell chimes, desolately cold.

Hearing Sylvan Cheney’s voice, Lilac Serval paused and then nodded.

“Mr. Cheney is just fine. I’m making dinner, and later I will eat with Little Chale Cheney.”

“Can you let him take the phone?”

In the darkness, Sylvan Cheney closed his eyes, his face revealing indiscernible helplessness and fatigue.

His head throbbed incessantly, showing no signs of stopping.

“Alright, please hold on, I’ll go call Little Chale Cheney…” Lilac Serval agreed.

This was the first time since he went to Lonton that Sylvan Cheney had initiated a call to Chale.

Lilac Serval was an adult, she naturally understood Mr. Cheney’s feelings.

But Little Chale Cheney might not understand.

Sylvan Cheney’s face filled with anticipation as he tightly held the phone, silently waiting.

In the darkness, his breathing became slightly hurried, his whole body had a sour feeling, his head aching fiercely.

But in this unbearable lethargy, there was now an added joy of awaiting…

One minute, two minutes, three minutes…

But, there was never a response from the other end.

After a long while, Lilac Serval returned apologetically, “Mr. Cheney, Little Chale Cheney is practicing boxing and might not have time… to take the call.”

She spoke with insufficient confidence.

Very insufficient.

Because, when she called Chale Cheney, the young fellow, upon hearing that Elder Cheney was on the phone, didn’t speak a word, simply didn’t want to bother.

“Oh, it’s fine.” Sylvan Cheney’s face became covered in disappointment.

This disappointment spread out little by little, like a stone thrown into a lake, rippling and creating waves.

Sylvan Cheney’s breathing settled, but the headache didn’t lessen at all, gradually eroding all of his rationality.

He clenched the phone tightly, unable to let go.

But he couldn’t utter even a single word.”