Chapter 1628: Chapter 1628: Knelt Before the Coffin for 3 Days and 3 Nights
“I feel about the same. Let him come to my office,” Sylvan Cheney checked his watch.
“Alright, Liamly Finley is already here.”
Charles Mcintosh continued to report the situation to Sylvan Cheney.
He had worked overtime late last night. Initially, he wanted to drink a little, but fearing a headache in the morning, he dared not drink. He forcefully suppressed his emotions, relying only on smoking to alleviate some of it.
The morning road was somewhat congested, so Sylvan Cheney listened to Charles Mcintosh’s report all the way.
In the middle of it, he received a call from Tomer.
Amidst the pattering rain, Tomer’s voice sounded very old and tired.
“Mr. Cheney… Qingming Festival is approaching. I’ve been preparing the offerings these days. Every year at this time, I miss Miss very much.” As Tomer spoke, his voice became hoarse.
“Let me know if anything is missing,” Sylvan Cheney’s voice was low, just like the rain outside, carrying a heaviness.
His chest also felt weighed down.
“Mr. Cheney, when will you come over? Will it still be Qingming?”
“I will go a day early.”
“Good, good. Miss always misses you the most, Mr. Cheney. This year there’s a lot of rain; please take care of yourself.”
“Mm.”
Sylvan Cheney gazed at the curtain-like rain outside, his thoughts drifting.
Every Qingming, thoughts of family multiply.
He missed Qiana Childe.
Even though his mother was very busy with work and had little time to spend with him when he was young, she was always the best to him.
After the massacre, his mother became a changed person; her emotions became very unstable, her depression worsened, and she often had suicidal tendencies.
At that time, he was also young, trying every way he could think of to make his mother happy, but it was to no avail.
Qiana Childe’s wrists still bore newer and newer grim knife scars, and she was sent to the hospital for resuscitation time and again.
During those years, he matured all at once.
Yet, in very cold weather, Qiana Childe still chose to jump into the river to end her life.
He remembered kneeling before his mother’s coffin for three days and nights, and from that moment on, it felt as though the sky darkened all of a sudden, overcast and heavy.
Rainy days always caused these painful memories to float up in his mind.
Sylvan Cheney slowed the car down, the depths of his eyes dim and profound.
The streets before him began to blur a little, the rain continuous, endless.
After a long time.
The car turned a corner, heading towards the Cheney Group’s building.
All matters of the group transition were conducted secretly and quietly, everything with the Cheney Family progressed methodically, appearing calm and undisturbed.
As the car arrived at the garage, Sylvan Cheney did not immediately get out but sat still for a long time in the driver’s seat.
In the dim light, his silhouette was slender, his outline dim, with a faint shadow cast on his face, adding a chilling cold to his stern face.
His head throbbed faintly.
Within a few minutes, a red Ferrari parked beside Sylvan Cheney’s car.
The Ferrari’s window rolled down, and Jesse Rowan propped a hand on the window ledge, “Mr. Cheney, what a coincidence.”
“Quite the coincidence.” Sylvan Cheney stowed away all his emotions, his face returning to normal, “Let’s head up together.”
“I got up too early today; I’m really tired, but just thinking that Cheney Group will be mine in the future makes all the tiredness vanish,” Jesse Rowan beamed brightly, his mood unaffected by the weather and the early rise.
Today, Jesse Rowan was dressed more formally too, in a sharp deep blue suit, looking more composed than usual.
“Since we’re here, let’s go up and talk,” Sylvan Cheney unfastened his seatbelt.
Jesse Rowan curled his lips and also got out from the driver’s seat.