She Became Rich After Divorce by Georgina Lane

Chapter 678: Is this Yvonne's Daughter?

In the freezing December of Onistead, the city felt like an enormous ice cellar. After the snow melted, the temperature dropped sharply, and ice crystals could be seen everywhere on the tree leaves by the roadside.

In such bone-chilling weather, Cheyenne was forced to go outside. Worried about her getting cold, Yvonne had specially bought her a pair of essential winter pants for people from the north, along with a thick cotton jacket. The style was plain and ordinary, but it excelled in warmth.

She put on a military green coat, tucked her bare hands into the sleeves, and clasped them together. Her fair face, with its almond-shaped eyes, creased slightly, and she shrank her neck into the collar. Yvonne styled two small braids for her, and as her fingers glided through Cheyenne's thick hair, a faint scent of orchids lingered in the air.

Standing behind the girl with a horn comb in her hand, Yvonne couldn't help but gaze affectionately at the strands of hair in her palm. Her heart felt as tender as these strands, unbelievably soft.

"In my youth, young girls would always keep braids. If someone had beautifully braided hair, everyone would steal a few more glances."

Cheyenne sat quietly on a chair, calmly gazing at her reflection in the mirror. Her lips couldn't help but twitch slightly. This... was quite different from her usual image.

"Cheyenne, your hair looks really nice, but... is your belly getting bigger? Have you been eating a bit too much recently? That's why you are a bit... plumper than before."

Her belly had grown bigger? Upon hearing this, Cheyenne immediately lowered her head. Her obscure gaze fell on her slightly protruding abdomen. With a subtle smile on her red lips, she answered her question with contentment.

"Yes, it's four months old."

"What!"

Yvonne's face showed a mix of shock and confusion. Her gaze remained fixed ahead, and it took several seconds for her to recover from this sudden blow. Her eyes locked onto Cheyenne's belly, almost as if she wanted to tear her clothes apart and examine it closely.

"You... you're pregnant?"

innocent, shimmering eyes, filled

were pregnant, I wouldn't have let you work so hard. By the way, who is the father

undertone of resentment crept in. In the mirror, Yvonne's pupils were involuntarily contracting,

angry.

How could Cheyenne keep such a big thing as her pregnancy a secret and run around tirelessly every day? How could the child develop properly like

starting from today, you can't work so hard anymore.

belly. I'll have the kitchen cook chicken soup

heels and cosmetics, stop using them. You have natural

baby growing inside her, not some life-threatening illness. It didn't mean she couldn't do anything at all. Fearful that Yvonne might lock her indoors and not

out of

the wall, noticing that the hour hand had unknowingly reached nine o'clock. It was getting late, and she still had to

"Let's go."

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Frequently, influential figures from

would come here to deliver speeches or lectures.

expert to

on diplomatic etiquette to

Cheyenne along, it was her way of introducing her to

enveloped by the vibrant atmosphere of youth and intellectualism that exuded

everywhere, braving the cold

without budging

spots.