Fated love: the unwanted bride

Chapter 820: Chapter 820 The Ring is Gone!

He bent down and kissed Jasmine Yale’s forehead, his cool lips wandering down to meet hers.

Her pale lips were hot, as were her cheeks.

Sylvan Cheney kissed her, somewhat reluctantly.

Yet still, he slowly let go.

As he lowered his head, his softened gaze fell upon the bracelet on her wrist.

The emerald color was dark and lustrous.

But, as he looked closely, he realized the ring was missing from her left ring finger!

In the afternoon, when she had lifted her wrist, he remembered very clearly that there had been a ring on her finger.

Now, the ring was gone.

Sylvan Cheney’s brows knitted tightly together, his eyes growing sharp.

He immediately called a subordinate, instructing them to find the missing ring while they searched for Yolanda Fern!

The subordinate responded quickly, with one of the bodyguards immediately saying, “Mr. Cheney, not long after you left, we found a ring in the cave, exactly like the one you described.”

“Where was it found? Bring it back.”

“We found it in a puddle in the cave, and we’ll bring it back.”

In a puddle…

How could a well-fitted ring slip into a puddle? There was no chance, unless she threw it there herself…

Sylvan Cheney’s eyes turned frosty, his face taking on a cold expression.

His gaze, edged with chill, fell upon Jasmine Yale’s face.

“Have you found Yolanda Fern?” Sylvan asked.

“The rain is heavy in the woods right now, and it’s impossible to spot any footprints, but we’ve fully sealed the area. If Yolanda Fern is on the mountain, she won’t escape.”

“Find her as soon as possible.”

“Yes, Mr. Cheney.”

After hanging up the phone, Sylvan Cheney rubbed his temples, his head throbbing in pain.

A strong sense of fatigue swept over him.

He tucked Jasmine Yale in, then went to the bathroom to shower.

…

This whole ordeal took nearly an hour.

After settling Jasmine Yale, Sylvan called the servants to take care of her, and then he returned to his villa.

By the time he got home it was after 4 a.m.; due to the storm, it was still eerily quiet and pitch-black outside.

“Did Chale Cheney have any nightmares?” Sylvan asked Butler Santana.

Butler Santana shook his head, “No, Mr. Cheney, the young master slept soundly and seemed particularly exhausted.”

“How’s his wound? Was it treated properly?”

“It was treated well; there’s no issue.”

“Good, pack his bags for the day. He doesn’t need much, just his everyday clothes and hats. No snacks or toys are allowed.”

“Mr. Cheney, where are we sending the young master?” Butler Santana asked, surprised.

The look on Sylvan Cheney’s face was serious.

“London. Lilac Serval will come to pick him up. Just do your duty.”

“Mr. Cheney, are you sending the young master back again? He seems to like Landon a lot.”

“To the training camp in Lonton.”

With that, Sylvan Cheney strode upstairs.

Butler Santana stood there, speechless.

So, it was that harsh training camp… She thought Mr. Cheney would not send the little guy back there again.

Sylvan Cheney went upstairs, careful not to make any noise as he opened Chale Cheney’s bedroom door.

He did not turn on the light but moved towards Chale Cheney’s bed, guided by the faint light.

Looking down at the little guy in the bed, he gently touched the scar on the child’s neck, glad that it wasn’t serious.

Chale Cheney slept soundly, his little hands clenching the corner of the blanket—a habit that was very much like Jasmine Yale’s.

His fingers touched Chale Cheney’s soft, adorable cheek, his dark gaze filled with complex emotions.

A myriad of emotions mingled together, suddenly engulfing him, heavily weighing on his chest.