"Then I'll go first, Mr. Cheney, you should sleep early, good night."
Yolanda stood in front of him, reluctant to leave, her gaze never leaving him.
"Yolanda," Sylvan Cheney called out to her, "Today, I had Charles Mcintosh show you a villa, consider it a gift from me."
Yolanda was taken aback.
She pinched her palm hard.
She hadn't heard wrong ... was Sylvan Cheney trying to get her out of Cheney Residence with a perfectly good reason?
Or, was she overthinking?
The area around her heart felt like it was hammered all of a sudden.
With a bang, she was left with nothing.
Yolanda gave a faint smile: "Mr. Cheney, this gift is too grand, I can't accept it."
"Accept what I give to you."
"Thank you, Mr. Cheney."
Yolanda raised her misty eyes, her heart filled with indescribable feelings.
After expressing her thanks, she left Sylvan's room.
Only the lingering scent of jasmine remained, that was Yolanda's scent.
