"It's nothing." Sylvan Cheney said indifferently.
"In your eyes, is it only not a problem if it's not life or death?" Jasmine Yale looked at him, "I was a bit impulsive this morning, sorry."
"Hm?" Sylvan Cheney squinted his eyes, "You can apologize to me now?"
"You!" Jasmine Yale got angry, "I'm not unreasonable, the unreasonable one is you. You never talk to me properly..."
She was a bit angry.
But even though she was angry, when she thought about what Joe Heath had said, her anger dissipated and was replaced by feeling sentimental.
The man in front of her acted as if nothing had happened, his face calm, his tone subdued, still the usual cold and aloof.
Did he look like a man going to jail?
Thinking of "going to jail," her heart couldn't help but tremble, and when she looked at him again, there was a thin layer of mist in her eyes.
She couldn't imagine Sylvan Cheney spending ten years in prison, such an elegant, proud man, how could he possibly be imprisoned.
