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Chapter 218: If You Won’t Beg Me, Then Tell Me You Love Me



Beg him?

Heh, the corners of Jasmine Yale’s lips curl up in a cold smile.

Upon not receiving a reply for a long time, Sylvan Cheney becomes impatient: “Jasmine Yale, is your pride so precious?”

“So if I don’t beg you, you won’t hand over the money to them?” Despair spreads across the corners of Jasmine’s lips.

Yes, she is truly desperate.

That’s the kind of man Sylvan Cheney is, kicking you when you’re down, adding insult to injury.

He’s even more despicable than the kidnapper.

He has always been cruel.

A cold-blooded and ruthless executioner!

“If you’re unwilling to beg, then say you love me, you fucking choose!” barked Sylvan Cheney.

Sylvan’s roar, likened to that of a male lion, sends an instant silence echoing around.

Jasmine Yale is not one who wishes to die. She wants to survive.

She endured such humiliation three years ago; why shouldn’t she continue living?

Asking for his help… it’s not like she’s sleeping with him, it can’t be that serious.

A moment passed, she bit her lip and began to speak hesitantly.

“Mr. Cheney, I beg you to give the kidnappers ten million to save my life.”

“God damn it,” Sylvan Cheney muttered under his breath.

Tears sparkled in the corners of Jasmine Yale’s eyes. In his presence, she had already lost all her dignity.

He was right, she was just a pet, a pet there to amuse him.

Her job was to entertain him, not to cause him trouble.

As a pet, she had no dignity to speak of in the first place.

Just as Jasmine Yale is awaiting Sylvan Cheney’s response, abruptly—

The call is hung up!

Just as her heart drops, “bang, bang” went the sound of gunshots!!

“Ah!” Jasmine Yale covered her ears and screamed.

The sound of the gunshots is so close it feels like someone has fallen down next to her!

“Miss Yale.”

One of the men wearing black masks removes his mask and also takes off the strip of cloth from Jasmine Yale’s mouth.

Jasmine Yale’s eyes struggle to adapt to the sudden light and squint slightly.

In a daze, she sees a familiar figure, Charles Mcintosh?

And the man who was called “Second Brother” has been gunned down by Charles Mcintosh!

“Mr… Mr. Mcintosh, how did you get here,” Jasmine Yale said nervously, wringing her hands and looking at him.

Charles Mcintosh helps her up, standing with respectful attentiveness: “Mr. Cheney is here, too.”

“What?”

Jasmine Yale has trouble processing this at once.

By the time she reacts, Sylvan Cheney has already walked in.

He’s dressed in a black trench coat, his steps are steady; his face is as cold as ice, his eyes full of endless frost.

His cold gaze locks onto her face, like a sharp knife gouging at her skin.

Jasmine Yale’s heart jolts!

So, they…

“You tricked me? Did you plan all this?” Jasmine Yale grabs the wall as her knees give way.

Charles Mcintosh speaks: “No.”

Jasmine Yale glances at the bloody corpse on the ground. She thinks he might be right.

So, when did Charles Mcintosh and his partner arrive?

Seeing Jasmine Yale’s confusion, Charles Mcintosh explains, “After we redeemed the young master, we routed them and surrounded this place. Hence, it was an ambush.”

Jasmine Yale suddenly understands!

So, that phone call just now, was Sylvan Cheney playing her?!

“Fuck!” she exclaimed, unable to hold it in.

She throws Sylvan Cheney a harsh glare.

Even now, her back is covered in a layer of cold sweat. Her hands are shaking.

The air is thick with the smell of blood. Feeling her knees give way, she finally realizes what she has just been through.

Sylvan Cheney walks up to Jasmine Yale. With his elongated fingers, he raises her chin. His body is ice-cold, and his face is gloomy.

“You’re not as cute when you’re cursing as when you’re begging.”


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