Jasmine Yale's figure was very slight, especially with her pregnancy, making her look frail and petite.
She didn't know how long she had waited when she hesitated whether to send him a text message. Suddenly, a low-profile yet luxurious car came into view—
It was that black Maybach!
The car wasn't fast, driving towards the parking space.
Jasmine Yale pretended to pass by casually, but her heart was pounding.
The car stopped, and as expected, both the driver and Sylvan Cheney saw Jasmine Yale.
Sylvan Cheney's brows furrowed directly, his face displeased.
Jasmine Yale walked over slowly, smiled at the man in the back seat, a smile sweet and pure, with two shallow dimples on the corners of her lips.
The driver stopped the car, pretended not to see Jasmine Yale, and got out to open the car door for Sylvan Cheney.
Sylvan Cheney fastened his sleeve buttons silently, his long legs in suit pants stepping out of the car, disregarding Jasmine Yale's existence.
