The car returned the same way, driving on the empty avenue.
Suddenly, silence engulfed the inside of the car, starkly different from the previous heated atmosphere.
If Jasmine Yale doesn't speak, Sylvan Cheney wouldn't have much to say either.
So, as long as she sits quietly, the surroundings would remain silent.
Jasmine Yale felt sticky and uncomfortable, coupled with a sore back and waist, she was quite exhausted.
But she still dared not sleep, fearing that once she woke up, she might not see him anymore.
He could really do that.
However, this man, his breath undisturbed, drove steadily as if nothing had happened.
Jasmine Yale lazily leaned against the window, pouting her lips.
The car gradually entered the bustling downtown area, illuminated brightly like daylight.
In the city center there was a large clock, Jasmine Yale looked up in a daze, and it was almost midnight.
They actually... had been at it for so long.
