Fated love: the unwanted bride

Navy Caddel didn’t speak, just squinted his eyes and stroked his chin.

Will Caddel blocked him, "Try to chase us if you dare."

The elevator arrived.

Sylvan Cheney carried Jasmine Yale downstairs.

His car was parked in the underground garage, the black Maybach gleaming subtly under the lights.

In his arms, Jasmine Yale was already unconscious, only mumbling incoherently "uncomfortable," "so hot," "not feeling well"...

She was truly uncomfortable, as if in a desert, her back covered in sweat, and even her pants were wet, the most terrifying part.

The combination of this drug and the essential oils in the room was deadly for her.

She hadn’t been with a man for a year.

Sylvan Cheney placed her in the passenger seat, his hand sliding under her clothes slightly; her entire body was burning hot, even her expression exuded a subtle allure.

"Hold on," he admonished.

As soon as he spoke, Jasmine Yale gripped his hand, lowered her head, and bit his chest.

The gentle bite didn’t cause Sylvan Cheney any pain, but it elicited a strong reaction from him, making him uneasy.

Jasmine Yale leaned closer to him, as if finding a cool spring, snuggling up against him.

"Jasmine Yale, let go of my hand. I’ll get you to a hospital."

"I’m so uncomfortable, I’m so uncomfortable. Am I dying, is it...

"Calamity lasts for thousands of years, a beauty like you won’t die easily," Sylvan Cheney said irritably.

He pushed Jasmine Yale’s hand away, but she still clung to him, her fingers wrapping around his arm like vines.

Her whole being seemed on the verge of exploding.

"Jasmine Yale, let go, or else I’ll have my way with you right here," Sylvan Cheney glared at her fiercely.

"Don’t touch me, you’re filthy," Jasmine Yale spat through gritted teeth, looking at him.

"Oh?" He suddenly raised her chin with interest, his fingers pinching her, "I thought you were drunk, but it seems you’re still conscious."

"I’m so uncomfortable, please save me... don’t leave me here..." Jasmine Yale looked a bit frightened at his gaze.

If he left her here, she wouldn’t survive.

"Who am I?" he asked, looking at her.

"CEO Cheney."

"Ha, not drunk."

She tugged on his arm, swaying: "Take me away, take me away from here..."

"Still know to ask me to take you away? What if I leave you here?" Sylvan Cheney looked at her with interest.

Jasmine Yale’s cheeks were flushed, an unhealthy red on her face, her eyes full of a peach blossom charm, brimming with autumn water.

"Take me away, take me away..."

"What if I don’t?"

"Just move aside..." Jasmine Yale, drawing unknown strength, pushed Sylvan Cheney with hidden anger on her face, staggered barefoot, trying to run outside.

Sylvan Cheney caught her and pressed her back into the passenger seat!

"Are you crazy! Going out like this, do you want men to take advantage of you?"

"That would be better than being tormented to death by you here!" She was about to burst with the heat inside her, barely holding on.

She didn’t know the consequences of this drug, but she felt truly miserable now.

The power of this aphrodisiac was immense...

She could feel her heartbeat pounding.

Perhaps it was her flushed cheeks, her murmuring voice, or her gaze that stirred something within Sylvan Cheney...

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