Jasmine.
Chester Yale was slightly stunned, a familiar phrase flashed through his mind, "I like jasmine the most because jasmine is the flower of love, symbolizing that you are mine..."
When she said that sentence, her sparkling eyes, burning like a brilliant flame, stared at him, and all she saw in her eyes was his reflection.
"Your parents must be deeply in love to give you such a name." Chester Yale reached out and rubbed Molly's little head, then turned and walked upstairs.
Leaving Molly alone, she sat on the living room sofa, pouting at her little finger, "What is love? Can you eat it?"
Molly blinked her big eyes, slid down from the sofa, took a step forward with her short legs, and was about to go upstairs.
"Young Miss, Mr. Chester is upstairs changing clothes; your room is downstairs, and you cannot go up." The butler hurriedly stops Molly as she runs to the stairs.
Then he picked up her soft little body.
