Fated love: the unwanted bride

Throughout the night, Joe Heath and Sylvan Cheney avoided bringing up Jasmine Yale.

Sylvan Cheney also gave Joe Heath enough face.

Close to midnight, after everyone had celebrated Joe Heath’s birthday, they began to prepare to leave one after another.

Downstairs, Joe Heath saw them off.

The wind was strong at night, so Jasmine Yale hid in the corridor to let them leave first.

Sylvan Cheney and Joe Heath stood side by side. When most of the guests had left, Sylvan Cheney lowered his voice, his tone deep and piercing.

“Joe, in business, it’s important to know your boundaries. Don’t touch what you shouldn’t. The same goes for affairs of the heart.”

“Big brother.”

Joe Heath called out before lighting a cigarette.

The night wind blew through his hair, but his face remained calm and composed.

“Don’t forget, you already have a son.”

“But my son still lacks a mother,” Sylvan Cheney retorted indifferently.

Appearing nonchalant, his eyes betrayed an insurmountable depth and a chilling bloodthirst.

“Big brother, I can tell she’s scared of you,” Joe Heath said calmly, “but she’s not scared of me.”

“Scared?” Sylvan Cheney smirked as if he’d just heard something amusing, “That’s because I’ve been spoiling her.”

Joe Heath knew that Sylvan Cheney typically overlooked women, barely glancing at even those who threw themselves at him.

Now things have abruptly changed, their relationship was clearly unusual.

Sylvan Cheney remained silent and turned to look at the corridor.

Jasmine Yale was huddled in the corridor, looking as pitiful as a cat.

People who didn’t know better might think she was being bullied.

He walked briskly toward her, removed his windbreaker and carefully draped it over her.

“Don’t be like this.”

Jasmine Yale tried to refuse, squirming uncomfortably, a look of displeasure on her face.

The jacket still held his body heat, as well as his unique scent.

“Jasmine Yale, you’ve been resisting me more and more,” Sylvan Cheney’s expression darkened.

The next second, he scooped her up and headed for his Rolls-Royce!

Joe Heath was immediately taken aback!

It was rare for him to genuinely care for a woman, even rarer to have his heart involved, only for his brother to snatch her away?

Damn it!

“Sylvan Cheney, look carefully, I am Jasmine Yale, not your wife!!!” Jasmine Yale was furious.

Before she could finish, her resistance was met with—

Being tossed in the passenger seat, her bottom aching from the drop!

She furrowed her eyebrows.

Sylvan Cheney didn’t bother arguing with her, he just closed the car door and drove off.

The black car sped through the dark night at high speed, like a swift swallow…

Jasmine Yale settled in, fastening her seatbelt.

Three years later, this was the first time she had sat in his passenger seat again.

When she was very young, she heard a rumor—

The rumor said, a man would let the woman he liked sit in his passenger seat, and anyone who sat in the passenger seat of a man’s car must have a deep relationship with the driver.

Back then, she took the rumor to heart and remembered it well.

Later, every time Sylvan Cheney drove himself, she would jump right into the passenger seat!

As if declaring her territory!

She also declared: this seat is mine, no other girls can sit here.

At the time, Sylvan Cheney just ruffled her hair and humored her with a hook of his lip: “Understood.”

In those years, she practically monopolized Sylvan Cheney’s passenger seat.

Looking back, rumors are just that, rumors. They’re rubbish.

Jasmine Yale lowered her head and began to count the checks in her bag.

Playing cards with these rich second-generation kids was truly exhilarating.

“Mr. Cheney, can you turn on the car light?” Jasmine Yale asked as she tried to unzip her purse.

Sylvan Cheney squinted his eyes, glanced at her.

He still cooperatively turned on the light..