Chapter 802: Chapter 802: Get Someone to Collect the Body
“Elder Childe, I’m telling the truth,” Charles Mcintosh didn’t back down.
“I don’t like dishonest people,” Spencer Childe suddenly struck the ground three times with force.
With a “bang,” the door to the lounge was pushed open!
Several tall and burly bodyguards entered.
Charles Mcintosh instinctively clenched his fists, his eyes coldly sweeping over them, his face calm.
The temperature seemed to drop to freezing in an instant.
The bodyguards stood at the door, leaving Charles Mcintosh no way out.
Spencer Childe stood up and walked indifferently past Charles Mcintosh, his gaze icy and devoid of warmth.
Although he was older, his commanding presence remained.
Charles Mcintosh knew he had angered Spencer Childe, who had a volatile temper when young, and it was even worse now that he was older.
Especially after being provoked by Yolanda Fern’s incident, he seemed to see the word “betrayal” written on everyone’s face.
Charles Mcintosh was aware of how Spencer Childe dealt with those who were disobedient, which was nothing more than having his men teach them a lesson.
If one survived, the matter was settled; if not, his next step would be to send someone to collect the body.
Even in the case of Sylvan Cheney, the approach was the same.
Spencer Childe walked towards the door, clearly not intending to leave Charles Mcintosh any room for maneuver.
Knowing Spencer Childe’s methods well, Charles Mcintosh glanced at the bodyguards surrounding him and said coolly, “Go ahead.”
Spencer Childe chuckled coldly, opened the door and left.
Sounds of a violent struggle soon came from the lounge, intense and chaotic.
“Clang,” the sound of a cup and a coffee table shattering!
Spencer Childe remained unconcerned and walked away slowly from the door.
Chale Cheney was locked in another lounge, lying on the table unhappily with his big eyes staring blankly at the tabletop, not happy at all.
There were snacks beside him, but he had no appetite.
He missed his dad and Jasy; why hadn’t they come to pick up their treasure yet?
Chale Cheney pursed his lips, listless and unhappy.
As Spencer Childe passed the lounge, his indifferent gaze swept inside, and he immediately noticed the listless Chale Cheney.
There’s a saying: Like father, like son.
But this kid was really an eye-opener.
Not knowing a thing about fighting but still being good at acting cute and spoiled, so pathetic.
The offspring of the Childe family, so worthless, truly made him sick to his stomach.
His daughter, Qiana Childe, though a woman, was proficient in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting, and she carved a niche for herself in the business world, possessing both a woman’s delicate observance and a man’s ruthless tactics.
The Childe family’s business had seen glorious times under Qiana Childe’s leadership.
Although he didn’t have a high regard for Sylvan Cheney, he couldn’t deny that Sylvan Cheney hadn’t completely disappointed him.
Sylvan was extremely calculating, with high acumen and was proficient in manipulation.
But it all seemed to change when it came to Chale Cheney.
If things continued this way, wouldn’t this kid end up squandering the Cheney and Childe family fortunes?
Seeing Spencer Childe in the room, Chale Cheney timidly called out, “Great-grandpa.”
Spencer Childe heard him but didn’t respond, just snorted coldly and walked away.
Chale Cheney looked blankly at the door. Had he done something wrong again? Why was no one paying attention to him?
It seemed that except for his dad and Jasy, nobody was especially nice to him.
Chale Cheney, at three years old, couldn’t understand at all.
The little guy pouted, yearning for the times with Jasmine Yale, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable.
It was like when he first met Jasy, he went home with her without any guard.
She would buy him snacks, bathe him, and hold him as he slept… Those times were so happy.