The strength around her waist loosened, losing its warmth.
Jasmine Yale quickly turned her head and instantly saw Sylvan Cheney standing by the window.
The crisp shirt and trousers enveloped his tall figure, under the light, his profile looked noble and stern, with a hint of loneliness in the shadow.
Jasmine Yale's eyes flashed with surprise.
What did she say wrong?
She supported herself on the table, stood up, and slowly walked toward him, standing behind him with a sweet voice.
"President."
"Hmm."
"What's wrong?" She wore flat shoes, so she was much shorter than him and slightly tilted her head up to look at him.
The light by the window was somewhat dim, making his face appear colder in the darkness.
"Nothing." He looked out the window, feeling that some place in his heart was empty.
