Chapter 751: Chapter 751: Jasmine Yale is Flustered
“Miss Yale, let me help you,” said the servant, who dared not let Jasmine Yale carry her own luggage.
She quickly took the suitcase from Jasmine’s hands.
“I can hail a cab myself, no need to bother the driver,” Jasmine said.
“It’s better to have our driver take you, it’s difficult to hail a cab here.”
“That’s fine, no need to trouble others,” Miss Yale laughed.
She was no well-bred miss; she used to be just like them. It was only that Sylvan Cheney was kind to her, not allowing her to do household chores and providing her the best of everything.
But how could she not understand her own status?
Over the years, housekeeper Tomer would remind her from time to time that she was just a foundling, not a real young lady.
She was very clear about all of this.
She never acted arrogantly because of Sylvan’s favor, never squandered money, and never bullied people out of a sense of entitlement.
Apart from her not being good at housework, she wasn’t any different from an ordinary person.
As soon as she left the living room, a gust of wind blew, making her feel particularly cold.
Jasmine wrapped her scarf tighter, burying her head into her hat.
Winter came early this year and it was exceptionally long.
Jasmine turned to look at the villa.
She hasn’t spent a lot of time here, but she really liked it here.
This place was not like the Cheney Residence – it lacked some solemnity and had more cheerful lines.
Today, the sun still hadn’t come out.
The sky was filled with gloomy clouds, darkening the sky.
The airy mist had dampened her hair from standing outside for a while.
Jasmine descended the stairs, took her suitcase back from the servant, and began to drag it away.
She lowered her head to look at the path ahead. Her red scarf and hat obscured most of her face, only revealing her clear and bright eyes.
She was wearing a thick white coat and high-heeled boots today; they were warm enough, she didn’t feel cold.
“You can go back, I’ll stand by the roadside alone,” Jasmine waved at the servant.
“Miss Yale, let me accompany you,” the servant offered.
The servant didn’t know what to say. Jasmine was too insistent.
The wind blew gently against Jasmine’s slightly disordered hair.
She dragged her suitcase and walked toward the gate.
Before she could reach the fountain, the villa’s gate slowly opened, and a black Rolls-Royce Phantom drove in.
Jasmine instinctively recoiled, a panic in her eyes.
The hand gripping her suitcase tightened, her knuckles turning white.
Clearly, Sylvan saw her from the passenger seat.
Jasmine was flustered, her eyes shifted anxiously.
Why was he back at this hour…
The young servant looked delighted and hurriedly went to meet them.
The Rolls-Royce didn’t drive into the garage; instead, it stopped at the door.
Sylvan’s cold, profound gaze landed straight on Jasmine, sliding down to see the yellow suitcase she was holding.
His piercing eyes radiated a chilling indifference.
At this critical moment, Jasmine knew she wouldn’t be able to escape. She also didn’t believe her two legs could outrun a car.
She stood awkwardly in place, her fingers rubbing the suitcase handle.
Jasmine didn’t move, and Sylvan didn’t get out of the car.
The young servant, who had covered half the distance, felt something was off and didn’t dare to move any further.
The pressure was intense.
The atmosphere was even colder.
No one dared to speak up.
After a full five minutes had passed, Sylvan hadn’t seen her turn back.
With a “bang”, he opened the car door, his face cold.
His black leather shoes hit the ground, and he strode toward her.
Jasmine was afraid of Sylvan Cheney, especially when he was angry.