Fated love: the unwanted bride
Chapter 1331: Have Another Little Girl

Chapter 1331: Chapter 1331: Have Another Little Girl

"Who crowned you ’smart’? You sure do like to flatter yourself," Sylvan Cheney pinched her face.

She was like a little mole preparing for winter, nesting in his arms, occasionally rubbing her little head against him.

It was probably because his sweater was soft and his chest was warm that she looked utterly satisfied, with dimples on the corners of her mouth.

Her tone of voice became lazy, her eyes hazy with a deep, affectionate warmth.

"You’re good at business, so tell me, what kind of shop should I open?"

"Why are you asking me?"

"Because you’re impressive."

"In the future, you should discuss it with your boyfriend."

Jasmine Yale choked.

His words were like a bucket of cold water poured over her head; her heart felt chilled.

Her eyes shallow, a layer of thin mist quickly formed at the bottom of her eyes, large teardrops rolling around in her eye sockets.

But she held back, not letting the tears fall.

Her shoulders, involuntarily, trembled.

Sylvan Cheney noticed and gently lifted her head, "What’s wrong, feeling wronged?"

"Yes, you’re so amazing at business but won’t even answer such a simple question. How could I not feel wronged?" She buried her head in his chest, not daring to look at him.

Afraid that a single glance at him would send the tears streaming down.

Even though they had talked about so much, Sylvan Cheney hadn’t disclosed anything about the Cheney Family’s business or smuggling concerns. His expression didn’t betray any worry, but she knew him well—anything he didn’t want to talk about, he could hide without a trace.

No matter how much she asked, she wouldn’t get anything out of him.

Now he was so light-hearted and jovial; there was no sign that he was someone facing imprisonment.

Sylvan Cheney light-heartedly laughed, "If you feel wronged over this, who will indulge you in the future?"

"The bad habits you spoiled me with, how am I supposed to correct them?" said Jasmine Yale indifferently.

"I can’t hit you or scold you; you cry the moment I say anything to you."

It used to be like that; before he even said much, she would start crying, making him hesitant to scold her.

He couldn’t stand to see girls cry, let alone her.

She had also figured out his temperament; the moment he looked stern, she would feel so aggrieved that she’d start to cry.

Several times, he had no choice but to hold back his anger.

"I didn’t use to cry before, no, I didn’t cry at all," Jasmine Yale said, feeling even more wronged. "After I went to your house, you always scolded me with such a stern face, then I just started to enjoy crying."

"Is it my fault?"

"This bad habit was cultivated with you, if not you, then who do I blame?"

"You sure know how to argue," Sylvan Cheney looked at her fondly.

Half-drunk Jasmine Yale snuggled in his arms, her cheeks flushed with a reddish hue, and a thin mist lingered in her eyes.

Her fingers were drawing circles on his chest.

That medicine would take about a quarter of an hour to react.

The time she had left to chat with him was running out.

She suddenly cherished this gentle, flowing time—it was fleeting but exceptionally peaceful.

Looking back on it in the future, it would be the last bit of shared memory.

This memory was warm, yet it cut to the bone.

Only a little was left.

"You still haven’t told me what kind of shop to open," Jasmine Yale pouted, unsatisfied.

"Whichever is fine; best to have a little girl, too. When you open your shop, let her and Sweet Kitty keep you company," Sylvan Cheney’s big hand ruffled her hair.

He knew she liked a peaceful and stable life.

He couldn’t give her that.

Just thinking about that serene life was incredibly beautiful.