Fated love: the unwanted bride
Chapter 1288: When Two Tigers Fight, Both Are Injured

Chapter 1288: Chapter 1288: When Two Tigers Fight, Both Are Injured

The afterglow of the setting sun shone in through the car windshield, and Joe Heath squinted his eyes.

He bowed his head to unlock his smartphone, the stock market was undergoing yet another wave of turbulence.

Cheney Group was the weathervane of the financial world, and when Cheney Group’s shares fell, it was akin to an earthquake in the financial realm.

Joe Heath didn’t know what he was feeling, but an odd emotion glided through him.

He knew Sylvan Cheney’s character better than anyone; ever since Sylvan had taken over the Cheney Family business, not a day had gone by without the Cheney Group thriving, rising day by day, year after year, gloriously.

But now, it wasn’t just the Cheney Family business that was melancholy, even the Cheney Residence looked desolate.

What on earth had happened?

How could Sylvan let things develop to this point?

It was impossible.

Unless he himself didn’t want to manage the Cheney Family business anymore.

The light of the setting sun fell bit by bit on the car’s body, the white of the car shimmered with orange glows, twinkling like stars.

Joe Heath put away his smartphone, donned his sunglasses.

Just as he was starting the car, a black vehicle brushed past him and stopped at the gates of the Cheney Residence.

Joe Heath knew without looking that it was Charles Mcintosh’s car.

He didn’t linger, driving the Porsche out of the Cheney Residence.

Charles Mcintosh turned his head in surprise for a glance, then stopped the car and stepped out.

Butler Santana had already prepared dinner, and all the lights in the Cheney Residence were on.

Charles Mcintosh walked towards the living room, his steps lit by the lights.

Sylvan Cheney sat on the sofa, his head bowed, leaning on the cushion, lazily swiping on the tablet in his hand.

He hid the usual sharpness in his eyes, his face wore a calm and unruffled serenity.

"Mr. Cheney, the date for the third trial has been set, in two months."

"Oh."

Sylvan Cheney’s face was expressionless, as if he had heard something unrelated to him, still bowing his head.

Charles Mcintosh furrowed his brow.

The third trial was the final hearing.

If Yacob Harry couldn’t produce evidence by then, the matter could be shelved, at least for the time being.

But if Yacob Harry went all in, presenting the evidence to the court, then the third trial would be the day of sentencing.

Given the current situation, Yacob Harry would certainly hand over the evidence to the court; it was his last opportunity.

The reason for delaying until the third trial was simply to cling to some hope.

If a union occurred, a powerful alliance, it would be a joy for everyone.

If hostilities broke out, two tigers battling, both would come to harm.

Given the choice, anyone would choose the former, and Yacob Harry surely thought the same.

But paradoxically, Sylvan had chosen the latter, leaving no way out for himself.

Yacob Harry surely couldn’t understand why such a clever man as Sylvan would make such a foolish choice.

Charles Mcintosh thought, if he hadn’t been with Sylvan for so many years, he would surely think Sylvan had gone mad.

"The weather forecast said it’s going to snow in a few days." Sylvan’s voice came, his head bowed, rubbing his temple, fingers sliding across the screen.

"Yes, it’s going to get colder."

"The snow in Landon is beautiful, you can take Little Lilac out for a walk," Sylvan said indifferently, "She probably hasn’t seen Landon’s snow."

"Mr. Cheney..."

"After so many busy years, I finally have some leisure time," Sylvan’s lips held a slight upward curve, "Call Little Lilac over later, let’s have dinner together."

Charles Mcintosh stood motionless, not knowing what to say for a moment.

The air itself seemed to have quieted, suddenly still.

The sunset outside the windows sank, and night gradually drew its curtain over the Cheney Residence.

The twilight darkened, streetlights lit up.

A long while later, Sylvan put down the tablet, walked to the window, and lit a cigarette.

His deep gaze was fixed on the night closing in outside the window, his eyes reflecting an unfathomable depth.