Chapter 786: Chapter 786: You Let Chale Cheney Go
Sylvan Cheney had to admit, Yolanda Fern was smarter than Chris Fern.
Now, the only vulnerability he had exposed was Chale Cheney.
And Yolanda knew how to strike at his most vulnerable, threatening him with Chale.
The little guy’s eyes were full of fear, he stared at Sylvan Cheney with an expression of pitiful dread.
Sylvan Cheney’s heart skipped a beat.
But he still suppressed it, keeping his face calm.
“I’m here, what do you want to say?” Sylvan Cheney’s voice was low and heavy.
Yolanda looked at Sylvan Cheney who came unscathed; her mouth curled in derision.
All those tales of severe disability, the wheelchair, were just tricks and traps to lure her in!
It had been several days since she had last seen Sylvan Cheney. It was a rainy day when she went with him to the cemetery, longing for Spencer Childe…
Ha, the cemetery was a lie, and Spencer Childe was not dead.
Knowing the truth was too late.
She resented how Sylvan Cheney had toyed with her and this resentment wouldn’t fade away.
“There’s nothing I want to say, I know what I need to know, I called you here just to watch your son die in front of you. I have no other intentions,” Yolanda said calmly.
Having Chale for company on the road to the underworld won’t make it so lonely.
Chale understood and was terrified.
“If you let Chale go, whatever you want, I promise,” Sylvan Cheney can’t provoke Yolanda at this point.
“What more do I want? I want nothing anymore… and besides, Sylvan Cheney, you think I would fall for your tricks again?” Yolanda scoffed.
“Yolanda, trust and deception are mutual. Even now, don’t you understand?” Sylvan Cheney frowned, his voice cold, “Speaking of deception, I am no match for you.”
She had been spinning a webs of lies since she was a teenager.
Looking at this impeccably dressed man, how could she have liked him for so many years?
His heart was never with her…
“Chale is innocent. Let him go, and I can replace him,” Sylvan Cheney said.
Yolanda scoffed: “Don’t fool me. You replace him? Would I still have a chance to survive?”
She was all too clear about Sylvan Cheney’s methods.
This man was colder than anyone else.
Charles Mcintosh frowned and looked up: “Yolanda, Chale’s just three years old, he’s even called you ‘aunt’. Aren’t you going to spare him?”
“Who will spare me if I spare him…” Yolanda chuckled.
“If you let Chale go, I won’t hold you accountable for what you’ve done before,” Sylvan Cheney warned.
“I don’t believe you.” Yolanda uttered five words.
“Then what would it take for you to believe? I can hand over Chris Fern to you and let you take him away,” Sylvan Cheney said mildly.
“Sylvan Cheney, are you joking with me? Chris Fern is now a vegetable, reliant on medicine and surgery to sustain his life. If I take him with me, wouldn’t it be a burden? I don’t have the money…”
“He loves you very much, he pleaded with me because of you.”
Yolanda scoffed but didn’t say anything.
Her face was a picture of despair.
Under the sunlight, there was a mysterious and dark shimmer in her eyes.
Like the misty clouds, lightly sketched, and as fragile as the catkins, unable to withstand the wind and rain.
Yolanda’s legs started to wobble.
Visions of Chris Fern’s young, handsome face appeared before her eyes.
When they were in Lonton, his favorite pastime was watching her read in silence.
He could sit silently for half a day, doing nothing but watching her.