"Crying? Why?" Sylvan Cheney blew up, extremely agitated, "You start crying every time I say something to you. How old are you? Still crying like an eight or nine-year-old? You think if you cry to me, I will be helpless? Jasmine Yale, don't push your luck!"
After he had finished speaking, Jasmine was so frightened that she bit her lip, not daring to cry.
She even stopped crying out of fear.
In front of him, she didn't dare to refute a single word.
Three years ago, she still dared to argue with him.
Now, she knew...he was not someone she could afford to provoke.
She stood blankly, her head bowed down, her fingers slightly trembling.
For the first time, he spoke to her so harshly, don't push your luck...
Everyone's endurance has its limits, and Sylvan Cheney, a man who holds such a high status, has tolerated her for fifteen years...
But she hates his bad temper too, his inexplicable anger, his yelling at her out of the blue, his control over everything she does.
