Fated love: the unwanted bride

Chapter 933: Chapter 933: The Truth, Coming Late Chapter 933: Chapter 933: The Truth, Coming Late Sylvan Cheney’s eyes grew colder.

It seemed there were plenty of people who talked too much.

Jasmine Yale couldn’t believe her father was dead; she only believed in the actual truth.

“Mr. Cheney, can you please return my mother’s belongings to me? Photo albums, jewelry, sketchbooks…so many things… She loved to paint, especially the Blue Demoness. Her paintings were beautiful, and she loved me very much.”

Jasmine Yale looked at Sylvan Cheney pleadingly.

In front of this distinguished and aloof man, she was utterly helpless.

She could only beg him.

“How would I know where your mother’s things are, Jasmine Yale? Don’t be unreasonable,” Sylvan Cheney said, staring at her.

“Do you really not know?” Jasmine also looked at him.

Their eyes met, and the chill between them intensified.

The air temperature plummeted.

The living room became bitterly cold.

Did he really not know?

Sylvan Cheney let out a cold laugh, clearly deeming the question unworthy of a response.

“What about Kaine Zahir? Have you hidden him away? I have something to ask him. Can you help me find him?” Jasmine Yale asked, looking pleadingly at him.

“I’m not idle enough to meddle in a stranger’s affairs,” Sylvan Cheney said with irritation in his chest, “Jasmine Yale, if you don’t leave now, I’ll have to throw you out!”

His tone was fierce and indifferent.

After speaking, Sylvan Cheney grabbed the suit jacket from the sofa and headed upstairs.

His figure receded bit by bit.

Jasmine Yale stared blankly at the upstairs, unwilling to tear her gaze away, her feet motionless.

The air suddenly went quiet; only the sound of Sylvan Cheney’s footsteps could be heard.

The crystal chandelier emitted a faint glow, the tranquil light falling silently onto the floor.

Jasmine’s hand trembled.

Her eyes were filled with confusion and bewilderment.

Suddenly, he paused on the second floor but did not turn around, his back still facing her.

Jasmine thought he might want to say something and moved her lips slightly.

“Jasmine Yale, you really want to go to UT, don’t you?” His voice carried a chill.

Jasmine blinked but said nothing.

The answer was obvious.

Sylvan Cheney said no more, his lips curling into a mocking smile as he coldly walked to his bedroom.

The living room fell into deep silence.

Jasmine’s legs went weak, suddenly unsure of her direction.

Her mind was in chaos, unable to separate the tangled thoughts.

The truth arrived belatedly.

Kaine Zahir wasn’t her biological father, Sylvan Cheney said, and her father was already dead.

She had nothing else to ask, right?

But the truth wasn’t like that; Yolanda Fern clearly said…

Her head throbbed dully, Yolanda’s voice echoing in her ears, gentle yet with a chilly undertone.

Jasmine rubbed her temples and left the Cheney Residence with her bag on her back.

She departed the same way she had arrived.

The sun was shining brightly when she came; a cool evening breeze blew as she left.

It was already nine o’clock at night, not too late, yet not too early either.

Jasmine clutched the strap of her backpack, her head bowed as she walked the familiar path.

The road was so quiet that she could even hear insects chirping in the grass.

Chirp, chirp…

She knew very well that he wouldn’t tell her anything, so why had she come?

She had waited in vain all day.

Just like the twelve years she had waited for him before.

But no matter what the truth was, she wouldn’t give up.

Jasmine walked along the roadside, the streetlight elongating her shadow.

In the past, when she walked this road, she loved to hop, because the diamond-patterned tiles by the roadside were interesting.

That evening, under the intermingling light of the moonlight and street lamps, she hopped along, step by step.

One square, two squares, three and four squares…