Disheveled strands of hair cascaded down, resting on her shoulders, half-hiding her face.
Sylvan Cheney reached out to part her tangled hair, gazing at her serene visage.
When she slept, the scratchy little claws she had would retract, resembling a well-behaved rabbit.
"Jasy," he called her.
She didn't respond.
Sylvan Cheney had no choice but to lift her from the chair.
He carried her towards the bedroom.
Maybe it was the strong scent on him, or perhaps he walked too briskly, Jasmine Yale stirred slightly, rubbing her eyes.
In her drowsy state, she saw Sylvan Cheney.
Entering the living room, Sylvan Cheney walked with her to his own bedroom.
Butler Santana's eyes bulged — wasn't that Miss Yale? When did Miss Yale return? Why is she only appearing now?
She saw clear love marks on Jasmine Yale's exposed neck.
Just now, she noticed kiss marks and bite traces on Sylvan's body, and now...
Clearly, Mr. Cheney had been with Miss Yale tonight.
