Fated love: the unwanted bride

“Mr. Cheney, pictures of you and Miss Fern shopping were taken,” someone reported.

“Same as always.”

“Understood.”

Charles Mcintosh hung up the phone and began tracing the IP address.

Mr. Cheney did not allow anyone to secretly take photos of his personal life.

Everyone, within and outside of the circle, knew that well, so no one dared point a camera at Sylvan Cheney.

In the past, audacious reporters had tried, but they’d disappear from Landon city the very next day.

It was clear whether one’s work or one’s life was more important.

Ever since then, no one dared to capture images of Mr. Cheney.

However recently, Mr. Cheney had been secretly photographed twice, and everyone in the industry wondered who was so bold.

But they all agreed, the person taking the photos was probably long gone.

Charles was always very efficient. Five minutes later, he pinpointed the source. “Mr. Cheney, it’s Miss Yale,” Charles relayed over another call to Sylvan Cheney. If it were anyone else, Charles would shut them down immediately without needing to inform Mr. Cheney.

But Jasmine Yale…

Sylvan Cheney gripped his phone, his lips pursed tightly.

His brows furrowed slightly, as if deep in thought.

Charles kept silent, quietly awaiting orders.

In the past, Mr. Cheney would normally respond with, “Let her kick up a fuss.” But now, Charles had a hard time deciphering what Mr. Cheney was thinking.

A moment later, Sylvan Cheney slowly said, “Send me the original post.” “Understood,” Charles nodded.

After hanging up, he swiftly forwarded the intercepted post onto Sylvan Cheney’s phone.

Sylvan Cheney leaned against the wall, crossing his legs, his face serious as he carefully examined the contents, word by word.

After he finished reading, he glanced outward through the shopping mall’s floor-to-ceiling windows.

The view was ablaze with light, lively with people coming and going, bustling and flourishing.

“Sylvan, do you think this scarf looks nice?”

Yolanda Fern approached him, soft laughter dancing in her eyes, a gentle expression on her face.

The scarf around her neck was a newly-purchased sky-blue, as pure as the sky and well-suited to her skin complexion and temperament.

“If you like it, buy it.”

“Do you think it looks nice?” Yolanda asked once more.

“Mm.”

“Alright, I’ll take this one.”

Yolanda happily admired herself in the mirror for a while before finally taking it off and handing it to the sales associate.

Sylvan Cheney pulled up a photo on his phone and sent it to Charles Mcintosh. “Uniformly publish the posts, but change the photo,” Sylvan Cheney ordered in a deep voice.

Jasmine Yale was strolling along City Moat. Only when she got tired did she remember that she hadn’t eaten dinner yet.

She found a restaurant to sit down in and opened her phone.

A good while had passed since she posted the original, and as expected, it had instantly blown up with likes and comments!

Jasmine was all smiles, taking a bite of her mango pudding.

But suddenly, she froze!

Something was off. She posted a scene of Sylvan Cheney and Yolanda Fern shopping, but why had the photo been switched?

Most importantly, wasn’t the woman in the picture…herself?

There was no clear view of her face, but she could recognize herself immediately.

It was the day when Sylvan Cheney had gone shopping for dresses with her!

In the photo, only a side profile of Sylvan Cheney could be seen, and she was hidden.

Panic set in.

Jasmine started panicking.

The hand using her phone started shaking!

The original post was still the same, but why was the photo different?!

At this moment, the headline she wrote herself was extremely grating: Bombshell reveal! Mr. Cheney spotted shopping with a mysterious woman! Their intimate demeanor suggests that she could be his lawful wife.

Mysterious woman? Wife?

Jasmine Yale couldn’t bring herself to laugh or cry.

She suddenly had an inkling of who might have changed the photo on her post.

After opening the flood of comments, she felt even more panic.

“So Mr. Cheney has been married all along. Heartbreaking.”

“Mr. Cheney looks at his wife so tenderly..”