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“Mr. Cheney, it’s very late.” Jasmine Yale declined.

She didn’t know how Sylvan Cheney had found her here, but all of Landon was his turf, so him finding her wasn’t strange.

“Either you come down, or I come up.”

After saying this, Sylvan Cheney hung up the phone.

Jasmine Yale was frustrated.

Her chest was choked up, unable to breathe in or out!

She glanced at her bedroom; Little Chale had wrapped around the quilt and fallen asleep.

There was no possibility of Sylvan Cheney coming up.

If Sylvan Cheney were to see Little Chale, who knows what he might do to a child.

After all, he was a heartless man!

Heartless!

With this thought in mind, she gnashed her teeth, put on a coat, and hurriedly walked out.

The hallway was rather dark; she cautiously stepped down.

Just as expected, a black Rolls-Royce was parked under the plane tree not too far away.

The car was huge and magnificent, yet understated and elegant.

The headlights were not on, and there were no street lamps on that road, so she couldn’t make out who was in the car.

She took a few steps forward and then stopped at the driver’s seat of the Rolls-Royce.

Just as she was about to speak, the door opened!

The person in the driver’s seat used a bit of force and abruptly pulled her into the car!

“Sylvan Cheney!”

Jasmine Yale grimaced in pain.

Sylvan Cheney closed the car door, wrapped his arm around her waist, and pushed her against the steering wheel, forcing her to face him.

Her back was against the icy steering wheel, the coat fell off her shoulders.

Jasmine Yale writhed, not worried about the fallen coat, and stretched out her hand to open the car door!

But Sylvan was faster. He caught Jasmine’s hand, hoisted her hands over her head, and stopped her from moving.

The other big hand held her still so she was sitting in front of him!

A light flickered in Jasmine’s eyes, twinkling.

“Sylvan Cheney, let me out.” Jasmine gritted her teeth.

The place was dark, shadowy, essentially a dead corner of the residential area.

But, she was very close to Sylvan Cheney, close enough to see his clear, resentful eyes under the dim moonlight.

This time, she noticed he had not been drinking.

His body only carried the understated scent of Agarwood Fragrance, without the smell of alcohol.

The steering wheel behind her was hard, hurting her back.

The coat was on the floor, and she was only wearing a nightgown.

Sylvan Cheney drew closer to her, with a clear look of annoyance on his face.

“Did you take my words lightly?”

The cold voice echoed in the cramped space of the vehicle, aloof and unapproachable.

“Mr. Cheney, you’ve said so much, how would I know which part you’re referring to, it’s all gibberish,” Jasmine Yale casually said.

“That schoolmate, did he come out of your house?”

Jasmine realized, astounded, that he had seen Hans Colin.

“Yes, he came out of my house.” She didn’t deny it.

“Dressed like this, did you just take a bath with him?”

His tone was frivolous yet deep, with a slight intonation at the end.

Sylvan Cheney’s cold hand landed on her, the palm was icy.

Jasmine Yale shivered.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Speak!”

“Yes.”

“Jasmine Yale…”

Sylvan Cheney pinched her wrist, as if he wanted to crush her bones.

Jasmine Yale closed her eyes, she seemed to hear the “creak creak” sound!

“Mr. Cheney, did you call me down just for this? You’re making a mountain out of a molehill.” Jasmine Yale casually said, “Don’t forget, we have no relation, you don’t need to manage me.”

“We’ve been intimate, and you’re saying we have no relation?”

“Sylvan Cheney, can you not mention it?”

Jasmine Yale clenched her teeth, very angry.

“If I don’t, I’m afraid you will forget.”

Sylvan Cheney’s eyes were dark and filled with unseen coldness..