"Tsk, tsk." Jesse Rowan held the photos, flipping through them one by one, his eyes gleaming with curiosity.
Every photo had the sa young girl in it, but there was one photo where, in addition to her, there was also a man.
The man looked to be in his early twenties, standing beside her, giving off the impression of a young couple.
Jesse Rowan glanced at the man and imdiately recognized him—it was Charles Mcintosh!
Did he just uncover sothing incredible?
He always thought Charles Mcintosh, as stiff as a block of wood, had never even dated anyone.
Unexpectedly, he had such a beautiful girlfriend.
This girl wore no makeup, her face still carrying a hint of baby fat. Her eyes were bright, and her lips were rosy—a true beauty.
"Not bad taste," Jesse Rowan couldn’t help but give Charles Mcintosh a rare complint.
However, these photos were already yellowed with age, so even weathered and brittle, as if they could snap with a single fold.
They seed to carry a sense of ti.
Jesse Rowan looked through them a few more tis. Based on his guess, this girl either married soone else or passed away. Otherwise, why would Charles Mcintosh keep these old photos locked away in an office drawer?
Jesse Rowan hadn’t expected Charles Mcintosh to be such a sentintal guy.
What a pity. Won are like poison—they shouldn’t be touched.
Feelings like this are never to be taken seriously.
Jesse Rowan flipped through the photos again, back and forth.
If he had t this girl a few years earlier, he might have fallen for her himself.
He admitted it—she was indeed stunning.
Jesse Rowan shrugged, then placed all the photos back into Charles Mcintosh’s office drawer, locking it once more.
Though he was curious, he wasn’t the kind of person to stoop so low as to take soone else’s belongings.
What he wanted, he’d take openly and confidently.
Just then, Jesse Rowan’s phone rang.
"Mr. Rowan..."
"What is it now?"
"Miss Harry has gone out."
"So she went out. I wasn’t keeping her locked up. Where did she go?"
"She said she was going to the hospital to visit her father."
"Oh, she should definitely visit him. I suppose I’ll also drop by for a look." Jesse Rowan spoke nonchalantly. "Anything else?"
"No, nothing else. Miss Harry’s fever has gone down, but she still looks unwell and hasn’t properly taken her dicine."
"If she wants to die, let her. Is this trivial nonsense really worth your overreaction?"
"Yes, understood."
Jesse Rowan hung up the phone, grabbed his car keys, and headed out.
Ignoring the docunts Charles Mcintosh had given him, he drove his sports car straight to the hospital where Yacob Harry was staying.
In the hospital ward.
Joan Harry was quietly sitting at the bedside, peeling an apple for Yacob Harry.
Yacob Harry lay in bed as if he were sleeping.
Joan Harry’s focus was entirely on the apple she was peeling. She was so imrsed, it seed as if nothing could disturb her.
A strand of hair fell forward, and her face truly was astonishingly pale.
It was very quiet—not a single sound could be heard around them.
Jesse Rowan silently walked up to Joan Harry’s side, bent down, and suddenly kissed her on the cheek.
Joan Harry was startled, her hand nearly slipping and cutting her finger with the blade.
With Yacob Harry lying right there in the hospital bed, she didn’t cry out. She only widened her eyes at Jesse Rowan in disbelief.
Jesse Rowan, his hand behaving mischievously, wrapped an arm around her waist and whispered intimately in her ear, "Peeling apples for your father-in-law?"
"..."
"Is your father-in-law awake?"
"He woke up but fell asleep again."
"Oh, oh. Is your father-in-law doing well?"
"He’s fine, none of your concern," she replied in a soft voice, afraid of disturbing her father.
Jesse Rowan lowered his head, used a finger to tilt her chin upward, and gazed at her intently.
User Comments
0 comments from readers