Charles Mcintosh paces away appropriately, heading into the house to bring out the bound Hans Colin and take him away.
In the yard, only Sylvan Cheney and Jasmine Yale remain.
The wind blows, a dry leaf slowly spins in the air and flutters to the ground, rubbing against the ground and making a rustling sound.
Everything is exceptionally quiet.
"Sylvan Cheney, did you do this on purpose?"
She lost face in front of him and his subordinates.
At this moment, the complexion of Jasmine Yale is very terrible, her face pale, her lips tightly clenched.
"Yes, it was on purpose."
Sylvan Cheney doesn't deny it at all. His deep gaze falls on her face, and the corners of his mouth curl up with a teasing arc.
"Sylvan Cheney, this is the last time I beg you in my life!" Jasmine Yale gritted her teeth.
"Hmm?" Sylvan Cheney responded indifferently, raising an eyebrow, his eyes filled with a profound light, "It won't be the last time."
