Fated love: the unwanted bride

Would he really stand up for her if she told him?

Sylvan Cheney lowered his head, curling the corner of his lips, “Well discuss it after we deal with the important matters.”

“Wait.” Jasmine Yale called after him, suddenly breaking into a mischievous smile.

“Hmm?” Sylvan squinted his eyes.

In the sunlight, her smiling face was radiant, reminiscent of the young Jasmine of old.

Whenever she came up with a wicked idea or was up to mischief in the past, this was the smile she wore.

And despite knowing she was going to cause trouble, he would indulge her, turning a blind eye.

For instance, when Tomer scolded her, her face grow sullen and she would say, “Tomer’s orchids on the balcony are too dry, I’m going to water them. Hand me the keys.”

He clearly saw her carrying a kettle of boiling water, but pretended not to, handing over the keys.

As a result, the next day, an enraged Tomer was left sputtering, searching for the culprit.

She hid behind him with a cheeky smile and said, “Mr. Cheney, I think I’ve done something naughty.”

Despite having caused trouble, she chuckled contentedly.

He then ruffled her hair, “I didn’t see anything.”

“Haha, Mr. Cheney, I knew it, you’re always the one who spoils me the most.”

Now, in this moment –

Seeing that mischievous grin on her face again, he couldn’t help… but to smirk himself.

Under the sunlight, his smile seemed especially charming, one that you couldn’t take your eyes off.

“What are you smiling at?” Jasmine Yale was startled.

“Nothing, go on.”

“Would you believe me if I said Lana Fern is being petty with me and wants to strangle me?”

Sylvan chuckled wryly, she had asked him this question again.

Obviously, Lana Fern hadn’t shown up at the hotel today.

“You don’t believe me?” Jasmine Yale probed.

“I believe you.” He lifted his large hand and ruffled her hair just like in the old times, “Even if you said it was Yolanda Fern, I would believe you.”

Jasmine’s face flushed.

His words made it clear he knew she was lying.

Can’t fool this Old Fox.

“Alright, I’m on bad terms with Lana and Yolanda now, whose side are you on?” Jasmine looked up at him.

She had just whimsically popped the question, not expecting an answer.

She was an outsider while Yolanda was his wife.

Pick a side… the answer was obvious.

By asking, it would merely reinforce her belief that her decision to leave him was the right one.

Sylvan, that sly fox, didn’t reply at once. Instead, he laughed.

His laughter, elegant and pleasant, dimmed the surrounding scenery.

His tall figure stood alone against the sunlight.

He bent over slightly, his mouth curving upwards, his tone… was as gentle as if he was coaxing his daughter, “Hmm… I’ll help whoever likes me.”

Jasmine was taken aback and stood there stunned.

He’s really an age-old fox, extraordinarily cunning.

Does this… count as an answer???

Sylvan Cheney, does your conscience not hurt at all?!

While Jasmine was still dazed, Sylvan Cheney had already taken her by the wrist and led her inside.

At first, he firmly held her wrist.

But not more than ten seconds passed before his warm hand slid down.

Interlocking with her fingers.

Holding tightly.

Wearing a black windbreaker, his sleeves fluttered, his leather shoes gleamed and even his trousers were neatly pressed.

His strides were steady, he moved forward one step at a time with composure.

Her petite figure, alongside her choice to not wear heels, made her much shorter than him, she completely followed his lead.

He led her along as if leading… a little kitten?

No, she wasn’t a cat. How could she be a cat?

She was Jasmine Yale.

As soon as he walked inside holding her hand, people began flocking towards them.

(Mr.. Cheney, does your conscience not hurt at all? ->_-»)