Fated love: the unwanted bride
Chapter 1389: Starting to Doubt My Own Abilities

Chapter 1389: Chapter 1389: Starting to Doubt My Own Abilities

Joan Harry bit and scratched Jesse Rowan, but she couldn’t stop the man’s fiery passion.

On the large bed, her thick hair spread out, like a powerless rag doll.

It was some time before Jesse Rowan finally let her go, leaning against the headboard and lighting a cigarette.

Joan Harry was still crying, her small, slender body curled up into a ball.

"..." Jesse Rowan looked at her with doubt, why was she crying?

Generally, the women Mr. Rowan had been with liked to act coy after the deed, tenderly saying, "You were amazing."

In front of Joan Harry, it was the first time he doubted his own abilities.

He wasn’t that rough, was he?

Why cry?

Jesse Rowan really couldn’t understand.

"Stop crying." Jesse Rowan took a piece of tissue and carelessly wiped her tears, "If you keep crying, I’ll get angry."

He was better off not speaking, once he did, Joan Harry cried even harder.

"You!"

Jesse Rowan took a drag of his cigarette, feeling quite helpless.

"It’s funny that such an adult can still cry," Jesse Rowan laughed, "If I’m not mistaken, you are even two years older than me. Tsk, it’s not even embarrassing for you."

Joan Harry’s sobs filled the bedroom, she buried her head in her knees, her shoulders trembling.

Jesse Rowan felt a headache coming on, so he threw away the cigarette butt and covered his ears as he jumped out of bed.

"It’s too loud." Saying that, Mr. Rowan put on his slippers and went outside.

It was the first time Jesse Rowan had encountered such a situation, he was at a loss.

Joan Harry was the first woman who had cried like this in bed with him.

Her crying made him doubt... his performance.

Jesse Rowan stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, squinting as he looked down from the top floor—Landon’s night vista was quite nice.

...

On the roads, a black Rolls-Royce wove through the city.

Neon lights cast shimmering, multicolored reflections.

Sylvan Cheney dropped Lilac Serval off at her apartment.

"Mr. Cheney, I’m here, you should head home early," Lilac Serval got out of the car, waving at Sylvan Cheney.

"Mhm."

Sylvan Cheney turned the car around, heading in the direction of Cheney Residence.

At a traffic light, he glanced at his phone; Jasmine Yale had sent him several messages.

In the dim night, Sylvan Cheney’s brows furrowed slightly, his eyes deep and bottomless, like the waters of a profound pond.

His black coat wrapped around his figure, radiating a cold, quiet chill.

His gaze was fixed ahead, sharp and somber.

He kept driving towards Cheney Residence, a bit more urgent than usual.

Sylvan Cheney didn’t know what he was worried about, or what he was anticipating.

On the empty road, he sped up.

With increased speed, it only took him half the usual time to drive back to Cheney Residence!

It wasn’t too late at this point.

Jasmine Yale was sitting in the living room sneaking chips, laughing happily as she watched TV.

Sneaking unhealthy snacks, if Sylvan found out, she wouldn’t avoid a lecture.

She could only eat them sneakily when he wasn’t home.

A variety show was playing on TV, Jasmine leaning against a pillow, unable to stop laughing.

She had already taken a shower, and she had a TV in her bedroom too, but she was accustomed to sitting in the living room to wait for him because this way, she would notice as soon as he returned.

She didn’t know if it was from too much laughter or the heater being too high, but her cheeks were rosy.

The pink satin pajamas she wore made her look even sweeter.

A bag of lemon-flavored chips was quickly emptied.

Jasmine shook the bag, thinking, after she finished, she wouldn’t eat anymore and thus Sylvan wouldn’t notice.

Just as she jumped off the sofa and put on her slippers, suddenly, the door of the living room opened.