Chapter 88: Holding a Cigarette

Erica withdrew her gaze and walked towards her daughter on the grass while shaking her fan.

The little girl was wearing a goose-yellow dress, with small braids tied up, sitting on the grass playing. Her voice was soft and cute, innocent and pure.

Tanner left and went to a spot in the back mountain that looked suitable. He chopped off the snake’s head and buried it.

The Foley Villa, the lamp in the study was as bright as daylight, and the tall figure behind the desk was as straight as a pine tree.

There was white gauze wrapped around his hand, but it didn’t affect his ability to hold a pen.

A beautiful and well-defined hand held a silver Parker pen, writing quickly while looking down. The light illuminated half of his face, his full and broad forehead, thick and curly eyelashes covered the emotions in his eyes, and he had a high nose bridge.

The other half of his face was in the darkness, and the facial features were unclear. This contrast between light and dark made him look like a character from a comic book, flawless and perfect. When old Mr. Foley came in, he saw the tall figure behind the desk at a glance and coughed softly. The man didn’t even lift his head, and a cold voice echoed in the space, “Grandfather, do you have something to ask?”

“You little brat, can’t I come to see you if I have nothing to ask?”

Saying that, he walked in with a cane.

he saw the words written on the white paper

handwriting was extremely beautiful, like a dragon soaring over the

at his handwriting and said incredulously, “Why did you suddenly

so his behavior today was indeed somewhat strange. Kelvin stopped writing after

pen was placed on

the tabletop where the mimosa was placed. These past few days, he kept recalling the scene where Cheyenne had sucked out the venom from him. Even though they had clearly agreed to settle the matter and move on, he

one’s mood, so after taking a bath, Kelvin took out this pen

still deeply rooted

Grandpa. It’s getting late,” Kelvin said coldly, picked up the cigarette beside him, and put one in his

rarely smoked, only when he felt upset

match reflected in his

furrowed his brow unconsciously and glanced at Kelvin. “You’ve

“No.”

know you better than anyone. You’re a wonderful kid in every way, but

exhausting to be that

had always been reserved, keeping all of his emotions bottled up inside him without ever expressing them, whether they were good or

he could handle anything that came his way with ease and efficiency

because of Cheyenne?” he asked

hard on the pen in his hand when old Mr. Foley mentioned that

through the paper and into the wood surface of

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