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.

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

away from him and opened the message. Kieran, restricted by the seatbelt, tried to unbuckle it, but the quick-witted woman

then… silence engulfed the space. Kieran leaned on Julie’s back, staring blankly at the picture on her phone.

quality was bad, yet incredibly adorable. She was dressed in a red halter top and matching shorts, sitting in a wooden tub against a black background. Her beautiful eyes were squinted in

pose in the tub was reminiscent of an

minute of silence, she turned to Kieran, pointing at the picture. “How did

neck, responding, “Your sister gave it to me as a wedding gift when we got our

“Give me the wallet!”

his head, refusing. He quickly buckled up and started the car.

to grab the wallet, but he sternly warned, “Honey, don’t. Our son is in the carl If you

Julie sat back in her seat, resigned.

seat, grumbling, “If we wait any longer, it’ll

and if I get excited, I can’t control

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

it! Julie swatted his hand away.

for Ivan to take a nap. When he woke up, they seaside town unlike any other, not reliant

town, the distinct scent of earth

Sycamore Village. The village

was like an illustration from a fairy tale, a large iron gate separating it from the asphalt road. Entering the rusty gate, a straight road stretched out before them, warmly lit by yellow street

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

halfway out of the car window, she turned to

tourists were taking pictures around the flower fields. The

at the suggestion. Kieran parked the car by the roadside and Ivan immediately unbuckled his seatbelt and dashed

he ran back to her side. He reached out to grab a hold offter sleeve, looking up at her with a cúrious gaze, “Are these purple, white, and yellow flowers all called

garden where purple, white, and yellow pansies intermingled beautifully. She patted the young boy’s head, “Yes. These are

like?” The boy was

like roses. There was an ancient poet about it. Want

nodded

began, “In the court, the lilies stand tall and fair,

the roses are the truly beauty, blossoming and dazzling all people.” Kieran chimed in from behind her, handing

then joked, “Your dad sure is cultured! And

pouted, “I heard on TV that this is called ‘being

thing,” Julie replied, playfully adjusting

scarf was wrapped around her neck: The man lowered his head, carefully adjusting the scarf for her, then pulled her