Fated love: the unwanted bride
Chapter 1298: Do Not Interfere with Mr. Cheney’s Affairs

Chapter 1298: Chapter 1298: Do Not Interfere with Mr. Cheney’s Affairs

"I had known he’d react so strongly, I’d just Photoshop a few kissing photos. That kind of technology is easily accessible in the entertainment industry, available from whichever angle you desire. That way, I’d have his house and his son as well, ah, just thinking about it is wonderful." Joe Heath poured himself a glass of red wine, squinted his eyes, and took a leisurely sip.

"Anyway, now that the Cheney Family’s stocks have plummeted like this, my elder brother can’t afford to keep Little Jasmine anymore."

"Joe Heath, stop causing trouble!"

"What do you mean ’causing trouble’? You can’t blame everything on me, right? My brother spitting blood is also my fault? It’s clearly his own lack of competitiveness, pushing Jasmine to someone else. Damn it, pushing her to me is one thing, but to Mr. Carbon, how can I tolerate it?" Joe Heath snorted coldly.

He had only seen Mr. Carbon in photos, and he did look quite good.

But he looked good too!

"You don’t understand!" Charles McIntosh said coldly, "You manage your own conglomerate. Don’t meddle in Mr. Cheney’s affairs."

"Fine, fine, fine, I won’t meddle, won’t meddle."

Joe Heath sipped his red wine, with a gleam in his eyes and a smile curving on his lips.

He had always underestimated his elder brother.

He had thought Sylvan Cheney only kept Jasmine Yale as a canary, amusing himself with her when happy, and ready to cut her loose when not.

As long as he hadn’t grown tired of her, he wouldn’t let the canary go.

At least, that’s what he had always believed.

He underestimated Sylvan Cheney’s feelings for Jasmine Yale.

This love was deeply hidden, much like Sylvan Cheney himself; unexceptional and inconspicuous.

If it weren’t for the clues he’d seen from the falling stocks, he might never have known how deeply Sylvan Cheney loved this woman –

willing to push her to someone else rather than see her shed a tear for him.

"Joe Heath, I’m warning you, don’t step foot in the Cheney Residence again!"

"Oh."

"Don’t call Mr. Cheney ever again!"

"Oh."

"Do you hear me?"

"Oh." Joe Heath rolled his eyes.

Charles McIntosh was infuriated by his attitude. Joe Heath really was incorrigible.

It’s no wonder Mr. Cheney was angered to the point of spitting blood by him.

Charles McIntosh’s face darkened like the sky before a storm, ready to burst into thunder at any moment.

He hung up the phone and stepped into the bedroom.

But Joe Heath, always enjoying the drama without fearing the consequences, took another sip of red wine, his eyes shimmering mysteriously.

His face still wore an unconcerned smile. His fingertips gently swirled the glass, and the ruby-like red wine swished enticingly.

A faint scent of lavender wafted through the air, a unique fragrance of his room.

It had been a while since he’d been home, and he felt a bit homesick, aside from his mother being a bit naggy, everything else was fine.

It was very quiet outside. He unusually hadn’t gone out to party tonight, honestly and dutifully staying at home.

And as a result, he ended up listening to Charles McIntosh’s lecture.

Why didn’t he have a loyalist and protective lackey like Charles McIntosh? Was it because his character was too faulty?

Joe Heath felt annoyed and downed the rest of his red wine.

He shook the bottle. Huh? No more wine?

"Melody Xylas!" Joe Heath called out.

After a while, a young woman in a wine-red silk pajama ran over, "Brother Joe."

The woman’s face showed panic, fearing she had come too late and that Joe Heath would be displeased.

"How many times have I told you to change the way you address me? You live in my house, eat in my house, use my resources, who allowed you to still call me ’brother’? Huh?"

"Master."

"Mmh." Joe Heath squinted his eyes, pleased.