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“Do you have a press conference later? You should hurry along. I’ll unpack a little and then take a nap.”

“Alright, give me a call if anything comes up.”

Joe Heath helped her settle down, reminding her of this and that before leaving.

“Okay.”

Only then did Joe Heath leave with peace of mind, kindly ordering breakfast for her.

He was not naturally a man who was good at caring for others.

But some aspects of him were slowly changing.

Jasmine Yale hung up her clothes and changed into warm pajamas before settling on the bed for some gaming.

The sky outside was overcast. Sylvan Cheney’s engagement ceremony was the day after tomorrow, and it was likely to rain.

Winter in Landon was exceedingly cold when it rained.

She hadn’t brought many clothes. Once he was engaged, she would leave.

She heard that he did not invite many people to the engagement party, only family and friends.

She was curious about what she was considered.

After playing games for a while and eating breakfast, Jasmine Yale finally went to sleep.

Sure enough, Joe Heath received a call from Chale Cheney as soon as he left the hotel.

“Uncle Heath, did you bring me a gift?”

“What do you want, kiddo?” Joe Heath chuckled.

The little rascal was cute at times but could also be troublesome.

This personality definitely did not come from Sylvan Cheney.

He wondered if he was much like his mother.

“Uncle Heath, you have no goodwill! My daddy’s getting engaged, and you didn’t even bring me a gift.”

“I did bring a gift; it’s already been sent to your dad,” Joe Heath replied, “But I really didn’t get anything for you.”

“Then you should buy something for me.”

“What do you want?”

“Will you buy me anything I want?”

“Yes,” Joe Heath agreed.

What could a kid want? Toys and plushies, perhaps – they wouldn’t cost much.

“Really?” Chale Cheney asked for confirmation.

“Yes, really. Uncle Heath doesn’t lie to kids.”

“Can I ask for three things?”

“Sure, tell me what you want.”

“No, I still think you’ll trick me. What if I tell you and then you don’t buy them?” Chale Cheney pouted.

“Why would I trick you? Am I that type of person?”

“Yes!” Chale Cheney paid no attention to Joe Heath’s feelings, “I just recorded you! You won’t be able to take back your promises!”

Joe Heath: “…”

This little rascal, so cunning.

No wonder he liked Old Fox! He was a fox himself!

In this respect, indeed, he was exactly like Sylvan Cheney, that Old Fox.

Exactly alike!

Joe Heath muttered to himself while helplessly acquiescing, “Well then, tell me, is there anything your Uncle Heath can’t afford?”

“Of course not.” Chale Cheney laughed, “Uncle Heath is the wealthiest and most generous!”

“No, no. When it comes to wealth, I’m not even half as rich as your father.”

“Then I want a villa in Brooke Bay, a pink diamond from Sri Manka, and…” Chale Cheney looked at his father, whose face had turned cloudy.

Sylvan, who had been sitting on the sofa, added nonchalantly, “A Bugatti.”

“A Bugatti!” Chale Cheney repeated crisply.

Joe Heath almost choked on his own saliva!

“Wait, wait. Little Chale, what do you want these for? Can you actually use them?”

“No.”

“…”

Chale knew what he was going to say and quickly interjected, “Uncle Heath, remember, I recorded you.”

“No, seriously, kiddo, who taught you this? How about we make a different deal?” Joe Heath laughed stiffly.