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 on

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

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

had always been an atheist, so his behavior today was indeed somewhat strange. Kelvin stopped writing after

placed on the

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 still felt a

copying the bible could calm one’s mood, so after taking a bath,

was still deeply rooted in his

late,” Kelvin said coldly, picked up the cigarette beside him, and put

rarely smoked, only when he felt upset or

blue glow of the match reflected in his deep eyes, cold enough

unconsciously and glanced at Kelvin.

“No.”

to dismiss it. I’ve watched you grow up. I know you better than anyone. You’re a wonderful kid

undoubtedly exhausting to be that

being bullied or praised by their teachers, but not Kelvin. He had always been

came his way with ease and efficiency – something that made

of Cheyenne?” he asked

as Kelvin pressed down too hard on the pen in his hand when old Mr. Foley

tip tore through the paper and into

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