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.

the words written on the white paper

was extremely beautiful, like a dragon soaring over the sea, with a hint of sharpness in its

glanced at his handwriting and said incredulously,

atheist, so his behavior today was indeed somewhat strange. Kelvin stopped writing after finishing the last word, listening to the skepticism in his grandfather’s

pen was placed on

gaze fixed on the tabletop where the mimosa was placed. These past few days, he kept recalling the scene where Cheyenne had sucked out the

mood, so after taking a bath, Kelvin took out this pen and sat at

was still deeply rooted in his mind and couldn’t

peace of mind, Grandpa. It’s getting late,” Kelvin said coldly, picked up the cigarette beside him, and

rarely smoked, only when he felt upset

the match reflected in his deep eyes, cold

and glanced at Kelvin.

“No.”

You’re a wonderful kid in every way, but

was undoubtedly exhausting to be

home from school or outside boasting about being bullied or praised by their teachers, but not Kelvin. He had always

was extremely mature; he could handle anything that came his way with ease and efficiency – something that made old Mr. Foley very

because of Cheyenne?” he

was a sharp snap as Kelvin pressed down too hard on the pen in his

pointed tip tore through the paper and into the wood surface of the desk

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