Jasmine Yale's brows furrowed as she struggled to free one hand to grasp his tie.
With that tug, Sylvan Cheney's expression changed, and he looked at her coldly.
Jasmine didn't use much force, of course. He gazed at her indifferently, and she glared back at him.
"Let go..." he demanded unhappily, his eyes becoming stern.
"I'll let go if you get up, it's fair. If you refuse to get up, I'll strangle you to death."
Sylvan Cheney narrowed his eyes, his lips curving in a slight smirk. Even though he was drunk, he understood what she was saying.
She was going to strangle him.
Yes, strangle him.
Usually, Jasmine was quite afraid of him, but once he got drunk, her fear would diminish.
"Jasmine Yale..." he called her name, his eyes glinting with an intoxicated light and an enigmatic meaning, his deep pupils tightening slightly.
"What?" she frowned.
"You are happy and secure, but what about me..."
Jasmine didn't understand. What was he talking about?
