Fated love: the unwanted bride

Sylvan Cheney’s cold eyes met her fiery red ones, creating a splash of sparks.

Jasmine Yale, afraid of falling, tightly clutched his shirt.

When he encountered her, Sylvan Cheney felt as if he were stranded in the desert.

Finally, Jasmine, exerting her strength, bit him hard.

She glared at him fervently.

Feeling the pain, Sylvan released her, his hand weighing heavily on her shoulder.

“Sylvan Cheney, you’re an absolute bastard. You’re nothing!” Jasmine hissed, her gaze blazing.

“Bastard? I am not even gone for 60 hours, and you are already hooking up with Joe Heath, huh?”

Sylvan Cheney wiped the trail of blood from the corner of his mouth and lifted her chin.

This wild cat really had teeth.

“Sylvan Cheney, what’s wrong with that? He’s not married, nor am I. What’s the problem? At the very least, I’m not the third party.”

“Your skill in seducing men is impressive,” Sylvan sneered, “you even dared to make a move on Joe Heath.”

“CEO Heath is young, rich, handsome, and considerate. Why shouldn’t I make a move?”

“Jasmine, aren’t you afraid he’ll play you to death? You have no idea how he plays with people.”

“Play me to death? That’s better than the three minutes I got from you, Mr. Cheney.”

Cheney squeezed her chin harshly, his eyes blazing.

“Three minutes? Are you trying to provoke me here?”

“Mr. Cheney, don’t forget, today is your brother’s birthday.”

“Do I, Sylvan Cheney, need to mince my words? If you dare to disrespect me, I’ll show you whether it’s three minutes, or thirty minutes, or three hours!”

Jasmine’s chin throbbed under Sylvan’s painful grasp.

A flurry of memories from three years ago came rushing back.

That night, she had been drunk, but she knew that he had spent the entire night grinding her down.

The dark night seemed endless, on and on, and he showed no consideration for her state.

“Sylvan Cheney, didn’t your wife satisfy you in Lonton? Huh?” Jasmine said, looking at him with a teasing smile.

Her smile was like a rose with thorns, filled with sarcasm.

Jasmine’s face was very pale.

“Jasmine.”

Cheney abruptly released her. His eyes flickered with an inscrutable light and the deep, languorous gaze was like still pond water.

After a while, he looked into her bright and dazzling eyes, “I also am young, rich, handsome, considerate, and unmarried. Would you like to consider me?”

Jasmine laughed, “Mr. Cheney, if you talk nonsense with your eyes open, you might lose your happiness.”

Having said that, Jasmine pushed Sylvan away forcefully and ran out of the restroom.

The atmosphere in the living room was intense. Several men began to compete in drinking as the card game heated up.

“Miss Yale, you’re back. Come, come, your place was kept for you!” Miss Laban stood up.

“Isn’t it time to eat?” Jasmine asked.

“It’s still early. Later, we’ll eat, drink, sing and play cards—everything according to the plan!” A man laughed.

Jasmine couldn’t refuse and had to sit back in her original spot.

One of the men suggested, “We’re playing too safe. Let’s double the bet – a thousand per card, alright?”

“Mr. Janus, isn’t that a bit unfair to us?” A girl pouted.

“You all are richer than us. One bag alone is enough to let you play all night.”

Jasmine felt a bit awkward. They might have money, but she wasn’t wealthy.

If she won, fine, but if she lost, it would be an embarrassment.

“A thousand it is. Who’s afraid, huh? Come on, let’s make it more exciting!” The men heckled and made a commotion.

Jasmine wasn’t good with mathematics, but she could do this kind of calculation.

A thousand per card. If she lost a round, it’d be several thousand at least.

(So, Mr. Cheney was rejected after confessing his feelings. There’s always a price to pay when one mixes in society,