Fated love: the unwanted bride

The black Lamborghini, like a swift, navigated through the morning fog.

Finally, the car stopped at the nearest hospital.

Sylvan Cheney rushed towards the operating room, carrying Jasmine Yale in his arms.

The doctors arranged by McIntosh followed him hastily, all ready for the surgery.

As the nurses in white coats and masks pushed Jasmine into the operating room, time seemed to freeze and stand still.

Mcintosh cast a glance at this usually calm man, who now wore a light layer of dejection.

Like Sylvan, McIntosh didn’t know how the operation would result.

Jasmine had lost a lot of blood on the way.

A crisp sound echoed, “Thump”—

A lighter suddenly dropped out of Jasmine’s pocket.

Sylvan was taken aback, bending over to pick it up.

Quite an expensive lighter, where did she get it from?

Sylvan pocketed the lighter, inserting his hands in his pants pockets while staring at the operating room door.

He would rather be the one lying on the surgery table.

“Sir, are you a relative of the injured? Please sign,” a doctor ran over.

Sylvan furrowed his eyebrows, taking the pen.

Among all the documents he’d signed, this was the heaviest.

“How is she?” Sylvan’s voice was hoarse, his gaze weary.

“The patient has lost too much blood and is currently undergoing emergency treatment.”

Sylvan nodded weakly, not having the courage to ask further.

At that moment, two bodyguards brought in a young man in a white coat.

“Mr. Cheney.” Chris Fern was expressionless, even somewhat indifferent.

As if all of this had nothing to do with him.

Sylvan couldn’t control himself; he landed a punch on Chris, pressing him hard against the wall!

Chris was defenseless, letting Sylvan land several punches – blood gushing from his nose!

But his facial expression didn’t change at all.

“Chris Fern, you’re looking for death!” Sylvan was furious!

“Mr. Cheney, did I do something wrong?” Chris showed no remorse.

He wiped away the blood from the corner of his lips, revealing a cold smirk.

Composed and nonchalant.

“Chris, I guess you’ve grown tired of living, huh? How dare you lay a finger on Jasmine?” Sylvan swung another punch.

Chris took quite a few solid hits from Sylvan!

“Mr. Cheney, trying to play the good guy now? You’ve raised Jasmine for twelve years, have your feelings nurtured now? As the saying goes, a troop is kept for a thousand days to be used for an hour. Mr. Cheney, if you had to choose between Jasmine and my sister, who would it be?”

An extremely sharp question.

Mcintosh’s eyes darkened.

This Chris Fern was genuinely fearless.

He knew that Chris was very close to his sister, Yolanda Fern, but he didn’t expect him to dare to confront Sylvan Cheney!

“Chris, you think you have the right to question me?”

Sylvan’s hand slid an inch to tighten around Chris’s neck!

Suddenly, Chris turned pale, gasping for air, his head buzzing.

Sylvan was applying full force!

Chris’s handsome young face twisted in pain, his breaths grew sharp, and he couldn’t utter a word.

Mcintosh stood on the side with his hands hanging down, his face expressionless.

“Chris, you think you’re something, huh? How dare you touch my people?” Sylvan furiously choked his throat.

Soon, Chris’s face turned blue and his lips purple.

However, his bloodshot eyes were still fixed intently on Sylvan.

Just when he thought he would choke to death, suddenly, the sound of little leather boots echoed through the hallway!

Thud, thud, thud in quick succession!

“Mr.. Cheney, let him go…”