Chapter 2481: Why Did I Have to Meet You...

"Jasmine Yale, stop being sarcastic! Have you had too much to drink? You really should take a cold shower and sober up! Look at yourself!" Sylvan Cheney, anger flaring from nowhere, suddenly grabbed her arm and dragged her to the mirror by the sink.

The slender Jasmine Yale was like a helpless cat, being dragged to the mirror.

With his finger, Sylvan Cheney lifted her chin: "Look at yourself, see how drunk you’ve become! Let me tell you, these dinner parties inevitably involve drinking, one day you’ll drink yourself to death, and even if you don’t, you’ll have stomach bleeding, migraines! Suffering unbearably in a hospital bed!"

"Out of sight, out of mind. Why do you have to stare at me?" Jasmine Yale turned her intoxicated gaze towards Sylvan Cheney, "Me suffering on a hospital bed... doesn’t it make you happy? Actually, you’re afraid others might know about our past, right? If I really were half-dead on a hospital bed, you should be happy, because a vegetable and a dead person can’t talk. If that day ever comes, you’d be very happy..."

"Have you gone mad? Do you realize what you’re saying?"

"CEO, when will you stop appearing in front of me? I really don’t want to see you at all, not one bit! Why aren’t you married yet? Why haven’t you had your wedding? Does your wife know you’re blocking me in the ladies’ restroom? How come you have no regard for others’ feelings?"

"Jasmine Yale, look at how drunk you are, look at yourself!"

Sylvan Cheney pressed his hand on her, pushing her towards the mirror, using quite a bit of force.

Jasmine Yale’s hair was pulled painfully.

Too painful.

A tear slid down from the corner of her eye.

Transparent tears glided down her cheeks, leaving a faint trail on her face.

At the door, there suddenly was the sound of someone trying to pull it open, along with a woman’s muffled mutter, "Strange, why is the door broken?"

Jasmine Yale dared not breathe, let alone speak.

Until the footsteps outside faded into the distance.

"Sylvan Cheney... why did I have to meet you... it’s completely unfair... it’s always been unfair..." she mumbled, whispering, "How can you constantly have it so good, I’m really envious of you, do you know that?"

"Is the money I gave you not enough, or is the house I provided you too small? If it’s not enough, I have more, enough for you to live on for the rest of your life, don’t act like you’re dying and live like this!"

As he spoke, Sylvan Cheney reached for his wallet in his trousers.

His eyes were filled with traces of anger, slowly fracturing into ice.

He pulled out a bank card from the wallet and stuffed it into her hand: "The money on this card is from the commission of my recent project, it’s enough for you to spend a lifetime!"

The bank card was cold, icy.

The bank card was suddenly pressed into Jasmine Yale’s burning palm, as if she was holding a hot potato.

She lowered her head, staring at the silver-gray card for a long time.

As she stared, she suddenly laughed, and as she laughed, tears overflowed in her eyes.

Her fingers loosened, and with a "clack," the bank card fell to the ground, lightly.

There was no rise and fall in Jasmine Yale’s chest, her eyes were calm and bright, like the moon in the sky, without a trace, only endless tranquility.

Her face showed neither sorrow nor joy, not even an expression, her gaze was hollow, drifting and bewildered, not knowing where to land.

The bank card just lay there, at her feet.