Sylvan Cheney sat on the sofa, his handsome brow furrowed, deep eyes shimmering with an inscrutable light—still mature and composed, showing little emotion.
Jasmine Yale twiddled her black hair between her fingers, her large grape-like eyes looking at him.
Sylvan didn't continue questioning, and she didn't know what to say.
Seeing that he didn't leave, she curved her lips slightly, "Can't bear to see me go, huh?"
It was just a jest, yet Sylvan's brow furrowed slightly.
"That's true, I 'can't bear' to either. This is our last encounter, right?" Jasmine's face showed a hint of chill.
The answer he gave during her trip to Landon had not changed, it remained the same.
She had given up.
Completely given up.
He truly had never cared about her feelings; if he had, he wouldn't have personally dealt with her father and brother.
Her heart felt cold, as if a chilling wind had swept over it.
He probably didn't know how long it took for a chilled heart to warm up...
