Love’s Cunning Ruse ( Mr.Kieran And Julie )

Chapter 270

“You have pictures of me as a child?” Julie, seated in the passenger seat, pondered for a while before deciding to clear up this matter, driven by her unshakeable curiosity. “Which picture of me did you keep?”

“Your son is spouting nonsense!” Kieran, with his hands firmly on the steering wheel, responded sternly.

Their traitorous son, sitting in the back seat, leaned forward to whisper into Julie’s ear, “Mom, I swear I’m not lying. The picture is in Kerry’s wallet. Check it out if you

don’t believe me.”

“Really?” Julie asked.

Ivan firmly replied, “Really.”

Kieran said, “No.”

Ultimately, Julie chose to trust her son. She asked Kieran, “Where’s your wallet?”

“I didn’t bring it.”

“It’s in Kerry’s pocket.” The little turncoat pointed at the bulge in Kieran’s pocket.

Just as Kieran was about to start the car, his foot already on the accelerator, he quickly covered his pocket, a clear giveaway of Ivan’s statement. It was the most blatant act of guilt Mr. Hemandez had ever displayed.

This practically confirmed Julie’s suspicion that Kieran’s wallet, and the picture within, were indeed in his pocket.

“Let go.” Julie sternly grabbed his hand, her gaze unwavering as she stared into his deep eyes, intent on overpowering him with her gaze.

Ivan in the back seat was laughing heartily. Kieran turned to glare at his son, calling him a “traitor.”

Ivan was unfazed by the accusation. Instead, he pointed at his father’s pocket, his gaze comforting. “Kerry, don’t worry. Mom won’t divorce you over this, just let her take a look!”

Kieran shot Ivan a glance. Ivan immediately backed down.

He gently patted Julie’s shoulder, meekly suggesting, “Mom, our teacher said everyone has privacy and we should respect that. If Kerry doesn’t want to show you, then you shouldn’t insist.”

Mr. Hernandez felt relief. Finally, his son’was showing some resemblance to himself.

But just as Mr. Hernandez was embracing this sentiment…

“I took a picture with my phone anyway. I’ll send it to you!” With that, Ivan quickly pulled out his phone, efficiently navigated to Julie’s contact in his messaging app, and sent her the cherished picture.

son and kept my childhood picture in his wallet all the time. But the photo was yours! I might not be his

from him and opened the message. Kieran, restricted

space. Kieran leaned on Julie’s back, staring blankly at the picture on her

set of artistic photos of Julie at three months old. The image quality was bad, yet incredibly adorable. She was dressed in a red halter top and matching shorts, sitting in a wooden

tub was reminiscent of

about half a minute of silence, she turned to Kieran, pointing at the picture. “How did you get this picture?”

neck, responding, “Your sister gave it to me as a wedding gift

her hand, “Give me the wallet!”

He quickly buckled

sternly warned, “Honey, don’t. Our son is in the carl If you touch

back

grumbling, “If we wait any

excited, and if I get excited,

sensible suggestion. Kieran reached out and gently stroked Julie’s head. “Good

like it! Julie swatted his hand away.

nap. When he woke up, they seaside town unlike any other, not reliant on fishing for its

distinct scent of earth

Sycamore Village. The village was tranquil at

gate separating it from the asphalt road. Entering the rusty gate, a straight road

the road were heat fields of flowers, with an old lamp placed at regular intervals. Under the hazy moonlight, the scene was dreamlike. Beyond the flower fields was the sea. When Julie rolled down the car window, she could

window, she turned to Kieran and suggested, “Shall we park and take

tourists were taking pictures around the flower fields. The street lamps cast long, romantic shadows.

perked up at the suggestion. Kieran parked the car by the roadside and Ivan immediately

out to grab a hold offter sleeve, looking up at her with a cúrious gaze, “Are

and yellow pansies intermingled beautifully. She patted the

flower do you like?” The boy

roses. There was an ancient poet

nodded eagerly.

thought for a moment and then began, “In the court, the lilies stand tall and fair, by the pond, the lotus blossoms without care… what

spring, only the roses are the truly beauty, blossoming and dazzling all people.”

joked, “Your dad sure is cultured! And your mom

“I heard on TV that this is called ‘being lovey-dovey”.”

a mischievous thing,” Julie replied, playfully adjusting the

her neck: The man lowered his head, carefully adjusting