Jasmine Yale laughed: "What do you an won care more about appearance? Clearly, you n are just lustful, complaining when your wife’s body changes, when her skin isn’t perfect anymore."
"Rest assured, no matter how you change, I’ll never dislike you."
"I’m the one who should be saying that," Jasmine scoffed.
He’s like a different person since the mory loss, swearing, fighting, smashing up bars. He’s done every disgraceful act; if she despised him, she would’ve left him a long ti ago.
"After you have the baby, I won’t let you be lazy anymore. No more sleeping in; you’ll be getting up for morning runs with ," Sylvan Cheney urged.
"I don’t want to..." Jasmine looked at him, filled with resentnt and fear in her big eyes, "Are you trying to kill ?"
"I’m obviously doing this for your own good."
"We’ll see," Jasmine giggled.
There’s no way she’s going on morning runs with him; she wants to sleep in.
Eating and chatting, Jasmine savored every date with him.
They never had calm, unrestrained tis together before, which made these monts all the more precious for her.
She noticed Sylvan enjoying hotpot more than he used to — he used to despise it, saying the sll was strong, but now he’s grown to love it as much as she does.
Halfway through, she stood up: "I’m going to the restroom."
"Alright, be careful."
"Mm!" Jasmine opened the door and left.
The hallway was indeed cold, completely different from the temperature inside the private room.
The last few days had seen a sharp drop in temperature.
Still, Jasmine didn’t feel cold; rather, she felt a bit warm.
In the restroom, she took the opportunity to touch up her makeup.
Just as she walked out of the restroom, she suddenly heard the sound of cups breaking from a private room near the corner!
Bangs and crashes, the noise was loud, making Jasmine jump, almost covering her ears.
If there’s trouble in the private rooms, usually no one intervenes.
Amidst the sound of things being smashed, there was also the noise of a man kicking chairs!
As Jasmine lowered her head, ready to leave, she suddenly heard a familiar na: "Joan Harry! What the hell do you want? You want to watch fireworks, I took you to see fireworks; you want to roam Chinatown, I brought you to Chinatown; you want to eat hotpot, I brought you to this famous hotpot place. What the hell more do you want? You haven’t eaten a bite, what do you want?"
Jasmine’s heart skipped a beat; she wasn’t sure if she’d heard wrong.
Was it the sa na?
"Wearing a mournful face, who are you showing it to? I brought you to Cakago for business, not to watch your expressions! I, Jesse Rowan, am not at the point of pleasing a woman!"
Jesse Rowan...
The na was too familiar to Jasmine.
The Cheney Group was taken over by this man, and Joan Harry has always been with him.
Now Jasmine was sure the people inside were indeed Jesse Rowan and Joan Harry—people she knew.
"Speak up! Are you mute?!"
"Always wearing a mourning face, bringing bad luck! No wonder none of my contracts got finalized, it’s all because of your bad luck!"
The man cursed a few more tis, then kicked over a few chairs.
Jasmine hid in the corner, not daring to make a sound.
The corner was sowhat dim.
Suddenly, silence filled the private room.
After a long ti, a woman’s faint voice ca from inside, light and soft: "I have no appetite, don’t want to eat, I want to go ho."
"Always changing your mind! Go ho? Which ho? Koi Garden or your bankrupt old ho?"
The woman fell silent again.
"Joan Harry, you better be sensible, I’m in a bad mood. Don’t provoke ."
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