Fated love: the unwanted bride
Chapter 1392: Aren’t I Still in the Prison

Chapter 1392: Chapter 1392: Aren’t I Still in the Prison

Jasmine Yale always felt that Sylvan Cheney was acting a bit unusual tonight. Although they usually did these things, tonight, he seemed to really enjoy kissing her.

"You went somewhere tonight?" Jasmine couldn’t help but ask.

"I dealt with some things," Sylvan replied, "Just stay put in the Cheney Residence."

"Oh." Jasmine nodded, "What if I ran off? What if I ran out of the Cheney Residence?"

The color in Sylvan’s eyes darkened, and his usually expressionless face suddenly became stern. The hand around her waist tightened: "You wouldn’t dare."

"But it’s so boring being cooped up in the Cheney Residence. What if I really sneak out?"

"There are no ’what-ifs’. If you dare to sneak out alone, I will be very angry, understand?" Sylvan’s cold voice carried a stern warning.

There was not an ounce of jest in Sylvan’s tone.

Jasmine understood his attitude.

Once he spoke to her with that tone, it meant that the matter was non-negotiable.

If she defied him, the consequences would be unimaginable.

"You’re making this place a prison," Jasmine pouted.

"The prison still has me in it." Sylvan lowered his head, gently rubbing his chin against her hair.

Jasmine smiled, lips curving up.

Sylvan did not mention sending her back to Cakago, and naturally, she did not bring it up either.

After chatting for a while longer, Jasmine left his embrace to take a bath.

As soon as Jasmine left, Sylvan went to the balcony to light a cigarette, standing by the window and looking out at the scenery outside the Cheney Residence.

The stars were vast, and the moonlight was hazy.

His mind inevitably drifted to the evening’s events and Jesse Rowan.

Though young, Jesse Rowan had quite the reputation, idle and unoccupied with any serious pursuit.

But Jesse was smart and bold.

Sylvan knew that Jesse definitely harbored some cunning intentions.

...

Three days later, while Sylvan was accompanying Jasmine to read books in the Cheney Residence, he received a call from Joan Harry.

His brows slightly furrowed, he walked to the window to answer.

"Mr. Cheney, are you free? I would like to meet with you; it won’t take much of your time," Joan’s voice was light, like a thread about to break, seemingly ready to snap with the slightest pull.

"Where are you?"

"I’m at the Jasmine Tea House on Left Bay Road, alone."

Sylvan thought for a few seconds, then nodded: "Okay, wait for me."

"Mhm."

Jasmine was no fool, though she did not hear the voice on the phone, she heard Sylvan’s.

He was going out.

Sylvan strode over, taking his coat from the rack.

Jasmine put down her book and tilted her head: "Where are you going?"

"Just a quick trip out."

"Can you take me with you?"

"Stop it, it’s not for fun."

"I heard a woman’s voice." Jasmine deliberately said.

Sylvan was startled by her comment, thinking she really heard Joan Harry’s voice, and turned to look at her: "She had a bit of an emergency, I need to see to it."

"She?" Jasmine didn’t expect to actually pull one over on Sylvan, indeed, there was mention of a woman, "Who is it?"

"..."

"Miss Harry?" Jasmine probed further.

She never thought a woman’s intuition could be so accurate, but now she found at times it could be quite reliable.

Sylvan didn’t plan to hide it: "Yes."

"What happened to her?"

"It’s none of your business." Sylvan buttoned up his coat, "I’ll try to get back early."

"Then pick up some durian mille crepe from Pink Home on your way, I want to eat it."

Jasmine was doing it on purpose.

Pink Home was out of the way, and Sylvan definitely wouldn’t pass it.