"She instinctively took two steps back, almost dropping her suitcase.
Sylvan Cheney walked up to her, his towering figure exuding an immense sense of oppression.
Jasmine Yale dared not lift her head, standing silently like a reprimanded schoolgirl.
In front of him, she never felt confident.
When they occasionally argued, she would quickly retreat or compromise willingly.
The imposing aura of Sylvan Cheney was too overwhelming, making her fingertips tremble a little.
"Not planning to go back?" Sylvan Cheney gazed intently at her.
"I, I have packed up my stuff, I want to go home." Jasmine's voice was very soft, carrying a hint of fear.
"Home?" Sylvan Cheney contemplated the word, "Is that rental house, what you call home?"
In the cold wind, his deep voice carried a hint of indifference and anger.
The servant on the side seemed to understand something and quietly slipped away.
So...Miss Yale left on her own accord, without considering discussing with Mr. Cheney.
