In the end, Jasmine Yale rembered that she had compromised.
Like a child who had done sothing wrong, she admitted softly, "I will study hard."
After all, she didn’t want to leave the Cheney Residence.
The Cheney Residence had long felt like ho to her, she didn’t want to leave the residence, didn’t want to leave him.
She loved the feeling of being able to see him every morning right after waking up, loved the breakfast that Aunt Hurst made, loved every flower and blade of grass inside and outside of the Cheney Residence.
She didn’t want to go.
The sunlight was warm, the years peaceful.
...
During her break, Jasmine Yale propped her cheeks in her hands and reined in her mories.
A slight smile curled at the corner of her mouth.
It was her first ti at the Cheney Group, her mories seed both distant and close, just a thought away from touching them.
She adjusted her hair and walked out of the break room.
The break room led to Sylvan Cheney’s office.
He was bent over dealing with official business, and at the sound of the door opening, the hand holding the signing pen paused slightly, and he looked up, "You’re awake?"
"Mm," Jasmine nodded, "Why did I fall asleep again, I just got up this morning."
"You’re always just eating and sleeping every day."
Jasmine walked behind him, circled around the chair, and stretched her hand to hook around his neck.
Her warm, fragrant breath lingered around his neck, "So, you fell for just eating and sleeping, right?"
"Yes, easy to maintain, doesn’t cost much."
Jasmine hooked his neck, kissed his neck, and then took a bite, "You’re awful."
"Stop it, we have a eting soon."
"A eting?" Jasmine’s eyes shone bright, full of life, just like the sunlight outside.
A hint of mischief flashed in her eyes, upon hearing "eting," she deliberately planted two hard kisses on his neck.
Perfect, his neck now bore her mark—a hickey.
Sylvan Cheney dropped his pen, pulled her from behind to face him, making her straddle his lap.
His handso face bore a reserved expression, his eyes as deep as a bottomless dark pond.
His hand around her waist tightened, "On purpose?"
"Yes, now the whole group knows you have a lover." She planted the kiss mark precisely where the collar couldn’t cover.
"Jasmine Yale, after the eting, I will deal with you."
"I’m a bit scared." Saying that, Jasmine looped her arm around his neck again, taking a bite at his lips.
Sylvan Cheney dodged.
Jasmine’s kiss missed, leaving a lipstick mark on the collar of his shirt.
Sylvan Cheney raised his hand and gave her buttocks a pat.
Jasmine lay in his arms, her voice soft, "I want to be with you every minute of every second."
In Sylvan’s eyes, a trace of emotion diffused, like ink in water, spreading for a long ti without fading.
He didn’t put her down.
In this period, Jasmine had been very clingy to him, and yet, he had not found it tireso.
Jasmine lay in his arms without restraint, hanging onto him like a little koala, feeling the warmth of his embrace.
For a long ti.
He then slowly spoke, "Get up, I still have so docunts to review."
"You do your review, I’ll hold what’s mine."
...
Sylvan thought, Jasmine really was a beautiful disaster.
When Charles McIntosh knocked and entered again, he found himself facing a scene that made his face flush and his heart race.
Sylvan Cheney had Jasmine sitting in his lap, while she calmly watched him go through the docunts.
"Cough, cough." Charles cleared his throat, "Mr. Cheney, it’s ti for the eting."
"Got it."
Charles didn’t say anything further and quickly left.
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