Jasmine Yale knew all too well that Sylvan Cheney needed no reason to have someone arrested if he wished.
She understood Kaine Zahir very well; although he was a drunk and abusive, he was timid and cautious, never one to break the law.
He was even more cowardly than Nancy Emmett.
"I've come to you for one reason: I've heard some things lately and wanted to verify them with you," Jasmine looked at him.
Cora Jorney had given her very little time; she had to make her long story short.
"Jasmine, you would be happy never to see me in this lifetime. What could you possibly want from me now?"
Kaine Zahir's tone was full of resentment and cold indifference.
His gaze was colder than his words, sharp like a knife or frost, unwilling even to look at Jasmine.
This foster daughter of his was now living a life far better than his.
While he languished in prison, she wore silks and satins, basking in wealth and honour.
To her, he was of no value whatsoever.
